


First Impressions

by Anonymous



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minor Violence, Oral Sex, Pregnancy, References to Underage, Sex, Werewolf AU, references to noncon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-18
Updated: 2018-01-26
Packaged: 2019-01-19 00:24:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 21
Words: 44,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12399309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: A story based onrkcart's werewolf AU!Noctis Lucis Caelum is still finding his place as a new pack leader at the border of Lucis. But nothing ever comes easy, and the idyllic peace of his new home is shattered when a strange wolf wanders into his territory...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Rkcart on tumblr has an amazing werewolf AU going on, and I asked if it would be ok if I wrote a little something about how the bros all met Prompto. Check out the link above for some seriously engaging content!

It hadn't been long since Noctis Lucis Caelum, the youngest son of the pack leader for all of Lucis, had struck out on his own. It showed in how the bedroom he shared with his pack was always in a state of disarray, regardless how many times Ignis tried, with a slowly withering patience, to arrange the furniture in a way that pleased an omega pack leader who was still finding his feet. It showed in the garden, full of small green sprouts that Noct pointedly ignored, and furniture so new they all felt a little awkward breaking it in. But there was one part of Noct, Gladio, and Ignis' home that Noctis took to immediately, and that was the creek.

Noct had always wanted to live near the water. Back home, he had to run hours just to get somewhere with a decent place to fish, but here, all he had to do was wave off Gladio's curious look and walk five minutes into the woods, where the sound of water rushing over stone greeted him like an old friend.

The bushes at the border of Noctis' territory were heavy with small wooden bells, which clacked faintly when Noct pushed through them to get to the bend in the creek. A large tree sloped over the bank, and Noct eased his bare feet into the creek, gasping at the shock of cold water on his skin. Noct dipped his hand under the gnarled tree roots, and felt along the bottom. The fish that lay there were too lazy and secure to notice Noct's grasping fingers, and Noct smiled when he gripped the belly of a fish in both hands, and the water erupted in a frenzy of flailing fins. 

Behind him, the bushes clattered and clicked, and the trout in Noct's hands went darting off down the creek. Noct cursed--he should have known that Gladio or Ignis would follow him--and turned to tell them off, only for the words to die on his tongue.

There was a wolf in the bushes, surrounded by rattling bells and thick, dark leaves. He crouched over the water, saliva dripping from his jaws, and stared up at Noct with wide, violet-blue eyes.

"Gladio!" Noct called. The wolf hunched at the sound, lips curling back. His fur was matted, brown with dirt and flecked with gold, and there were clumps of mud and leaves clinging to his fur, exposing sunken haunches and the ridge of his ribs. He smelled foul with fear, like a bundle of flowers left to rot, and Noct pushed away from the tree.

"Hey," he said. The wolf whined and inched back. "Hey, no, hold on."

There was a thundering, rumbling growl in the shadows, and Gladio burst from the underbrush with a snarl. The wolf cowered and tried to scrabble out of the way, but Gladio hit him head-on, and they collided with a sick crash of bone. Gladio raked his claws down the wolf's side, and Noct winced at the cry of pain that shivered in the air. The wolf let out a terrible series of high, desperate whines, and he tried to wriggle onto his back, exposing his belly to the alpha.

"Gladio!" Noct shouted, trudging through the creek towards them. "Gladio, back off!"

Gladio swung his head towards Noct, giving him a long, disbelieving look, but the wolf beneath him only whined again. The scent of distressed omega was thick enough to choke on, and Gladio's ears flattened in confusion as he looked down at the source, whining and whimpering under his paws. 

The bells rang out again as Ignis appeared, shifting in midair as he threw his body between Noctis and Gladio. It was a move he’d used countless times, when arguments between Gladio and Noct devolved into snarling and posturing, but this time, there was an edge to the low rumble in his throat. He padded towards Gladio, keeping an eye on the desperate, whimpering omega, and Gladio took one step back. Ignis crouched over the omega and sat down, draping his paws over his chest, clearly staking a claim. He tilted his head at Gladio, with the same, cheeky gesture he used when he was at his most exasperated, and Gladio sat.

Gladio snapped at the air in warning when Noct got too close to the new wolf and Ignis, but Noct pushed down the urge to duck behind him and approached the wolf on the ground. It would be better, he knew, if he were in his wolf form for this, but he didn't feel much like taking the time to strip down and shift. He knelt next to Gladio, placing a hand on one of his paws, and let out the best calming whine that a human throat could muster.

The omega before him keened back, gaze fixed on Noct. Noct carefully lay his free hand on the other omega's filthy, mud-slick fur, and felt a tremor under his fingers. 

"Shit," he said, in a soft voice. "What the hell happened to you?"

\----------

It took nearly an hour for Noct and Ignis to coax the wolf out of the woods. Ignis had the best luck, using his influence as a beta to soothe the wolf’s frazzled nerves, stroking his matted fur and murmuring in his ear. Gladio stalked behind them, growling low in his throat, and Noct gave in and shifted at last, pushing his sleek bulk against the other omega in a weak attempt at comfort.

Then came the hard part.

“You know you can change back, right?” Noct asked. It had been over an hour, but the wolf had refused to shift, huddling at the back of their garden shed amid shelves of fertilizer and fishing tackle. Noct took a step closer, and Gladio let out a heavy sigh, gripping him by the collar to haul him back. “Hey!”

“No, Noct,” Gladio said, voice heavy with sarcasm as Noct struggled against his hold. “Walk right up to a feral Niff. Go ahead. You’ve lived a long life, I’m sure your dad won't mind if I tell him I let you get your head bitten off--”

“Ignis is right there!” Noct protested. Ignis looked up from where he was gently teasing the ends of a lump of tangled fur, and Gladio groaned. 

“Self-preservation?” he asked. “What's that? Hell if I know, I’m just an alpha who wants his packmates to live through the week, don't mind _me…_ ”

He backed off, dragging Noctis with him, and the two of them disappeared in a mess of pinwheeling arms and snarling omega.

Ignis watched them go, and jumped when the wolf nudged his arm, whining faintly. “Oh,” he said. “Do you want me to keep going?” 

Another whine.

Ignis scratched the wolf behind the ears, smiling a little when he closed his eyes. “It’ll feel better once you’ve had a proper bath,” he said. “Come, now.”

The wolf followed him out, led by Ignis’ hands in his ruff, and Ignis sat him down by the garden hose.

“Are you afraid to shift back?” he asked, turning on the water. The wolf stared at him. “ _Can_ you shift back?”

This whine was faint, more of a grumble than anything, and Ignis forced himself to smile.

“I’m sure it can happen,” he said. He set the hose over the wolf’s shoulders and started kneading his fur, trying not to notice the blood that mixed with the mud pooling at their feet. “I’ve heard of cases where a werewolf can remain in one state for too long, making it hard to shift back. I knew an older woman, sweetest thing in gingham you’ll ever meet, couldn't be convinced to transform for love nor money. Hated the smell, I believe.”

He talked like that for another hour, brushing and massaging the muck out of the wolf’s fur. He spoke of how it felt to shift, of the first time Ignis had stayed as a wolf for too long, too mired in the misery of teenage drama to realize what was happening.

“It's terrifying,” he said. “You have to remember what makes you human. Think about what you’d like to do, in human form. You can talk to me, or Noctis, or…” He frowned. “Well. You can help me with the garden. It would be nice to have an extra pair of hands. Noctis can't be bothered with anything remotely healthy, you know. Can you say his name? Noctis. Noc-tis.”

The wolf hunched his shoulders, head hanging, and Ignis rubbed his ears.

“You have a beautiful coat,” he said. “Like gold. I bet your hair’s this color, isn't it? You’re lucky; I tried dying my hair, when I was thirteen, and I--”

“Oh my gods, will you _lay off?_ ” Noct shouted. Both Ignis and the wolf turned to look at Noct stomping towards the shed with a plate of the roast they’d made two days ago, Gladio trailing him like a puppy in a sulk. The wolf startled at the sight of Gladio and shrank back, and Ignis sighed.

“Stop there,” he said, and Noct froze. “Neither of you are allowed near him until you can get your emotions under control.” He strode up to Noct and kissed him lightly on the forehead, wrenching the plate from his resisting fingers. “The thought is appreciated, though.”

“Just be careful, Iggy,” Gladio said. “This could be a trap.”

Ignis barely resisted rolling his eyes, and Noct snorted. “Duly noted, Gladio.” He turned to the wolf, and was unsurprised to find all his attention locked on the roast. Gods alone knew when he ate last. Ignis set the plate down quickly, and when the wolf lunged, Gladio darted in to wrap his arms around Ignis’ chest.

“Good lord,” Ignis muttered, and wriggled free. He returned to the wolf, aware of both Noct and Gladio’s stares fixed on his back, and waited for him to finish. 

The sun had nearly set by the time the wolf began to transform.

He did it by inches, painful and slow. He curled in on himself, hunching into Ignis’ hold, his body jerking and reshaping itself in a shift so gradual that Ignis could barely track it. He murmured to the wolf as he shook in his arms, nonsensical words of encouragement breathed in his fur, and smiled when he felt the first patch of skin form under his hands.

“Good,” he whispered. “You're doing so well.”

The wolf shuddered and shifted the rest of the way all at once, collapsing in the dirt with a gasp that was blessedly human. Ignis dropped to his knees with him, and leaned down to look into a narrow, freckled face, blue eyes dark with exhaustion. He smiled and pushed long blond bangs back with one hand.

“Hello,” he said. 

“Hey.” The blonde’s voice was hoarse with disuse, but his smile was genuine. He dropped his head on Ignis’ shoulder, and Ignis tried not to dwell on how slight he was, or on the bones he could feel under the skin of his back. 

“Do you have a name?” Ignis asked. The omega forced his head up, eyes narrowed. 

“Right, sorry,” he said. “It's Prompto.” Ignis waited, and his cheeks flushed pink. “Just Prompto.” 

“Well, _just Prompto,_ ” Ignis said, earning himself another shaky smile. “May I say that it’s a pleasure to meet you at last.”

“Yeah,” Prompto said, clutching Ignis’ arms with both hands. He looked down at himself, then back up at Ignis, grinning as though he’d just transformed for the first time. “Same here.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, so maybe I'm writing a bit more of this! There'll be one more chapter after this one. Again, this is from rkcart's delightful werewolf AU. [Check it out here!](http://rkcart.tumblr.com)

Gladiolus Amicitia was too young to remember the day that Aulea, his father and Regis' packmate and one of the best fighters in Lucis, had been murdered, but he remembered what came after. Whispers on the tongues of his elders painted a picture of her in Gladio's mind: Beloved, quick on her feet, deceptively strong in a way that led more than one unfamiliar alpha to a crushing defeat. Whatever flaws she had in life died with her, and her image rose before young Gladio as the ideal protector, compassionate and clever and wise. 

"It's a shame," the adults said, when they thought Gladio wasn't paying attention, "that she let that Niff get too close."

"They're trained in deception," another said, while deft fingers wove braids in Gladio's hair. "Anyone would've been fooled."

"It just goes to show," said another, in a voice of authority that Gladio couldn't dare question. "You can never trust a Niff."

\----------

"I don't like this," Noct said for the third time, staring out the window of his bedroom from his place on the bed. "We have a spare room, you know."

"Fine," Gladio said. He moved lower down the mattress, snaking one arm around Noct's waist. "Let the Niff have free rein of the place. Good one, Noct."

Noctis shrugged. He'd helped Ignis that afternoon, holding out clean bandages while Ignis saw to the scratches on Prompto's skin. Gladio had offered to help as the one who'd attacked Prompto in the first place, but he couldn't get within ten feet before the omega twisted away, suppressing a frantic whine. Gladio settled for watching from a distance, so he didn't see the old scars on Prompto's shoulders, the marks of claw and tooth, the disturbing silvery scratches that ran down his thighs. Noct wrapped an arm around Gladio's shoulder.

"I think something happened to him," Noct said. "He couldn't even shift without Ignis talking him through it."

"Yeah, he looked real convincing." Gladio ignored the light slap on his arm, and kissed his mate on the side of the cheek. "Noct, I'm not gonna put you in danger. Who knows what this guy's orders are."

Noct tilted his head for another kiss, and smiled when Gladio complied. He liked when Gladio kissed him like this, all slow and soft and lingering, letting Noct set the pace. He trailed his fingers down Gladio's throat and smiled at the rumble of pleasure he got in response. 

"Maybe he just wanted to escape," Noct said. Gladio seemed to struggle out of the haze of lazy warmth that had fallen over him, and lifted Noct's hand to kiss the inside of his wrist.

"Or maybe he's here to scout out the prince of Lucis," Gladio said. "You know what they say, Noct."

Noct sighed, turning his back on the window, and dug his fingers in Gladio's hair. His voice was small and wan. 

"Never trust a Niff."

 

 

In the darkness of the toolshed several yards from where Noct and Gladio lay, Prompto stretched out in a small bubble of warmth and silence, the dust of the shed floor scraping the soles of his feet. He looked up at the blue tin roof and smiled. He'd never been groomed before, not since he'd been taken by Ardyn, and he found that for the first time in years, he _wanted_ to feel hands in his fur. Gentle, careful hands, cool green eyes, and a voice that called him beautiful.

He wished he could stay. The alpha--Gladio, that's what Noctis called him--he would be trouble. Noctis and Ignis seemed to be treated well enough, but Prompto didn't have any illusions regarding what an alpha would do to a strange omega given half the chance. Hell, the alphas in Ardyn's pack had _known_ Prompto, and they--

They used to--

He dragged his quilt into his arms. He'd made it out of Niflheim, but he wasn't safe. Not yet. But maybe if he worked hard enough, if he made himself useful, the pack could let him stay in their shed for a while. He'd hide out in the woods during his heats, maybe, keep away from Gladio, and he could keep getting food and warmth and a place to sleep that wasn't at Ardyn's feet. 

Anything was better than what he'd left behind. And as he lay there, breathing in the cool, dry air of the shed, Prompto allowed himself a moment to imagine something better. Working in that little garden Ignis had told him about. Waking up warm and full, with none of the aching hunger that scraped him raw. Finding out what Noctis had been doing with his hands in the creek, listening to the murmur of voices and faint laughter in the house beyond. 

Prompto lay in a dark shed in borrowed clothes, covered in bandages already tacky with blood, and knew without a doubt that leaving Niflheim had been the best decision he ever made.

\--------

Prompto was already up before Ignis knocked on the shed door, despite the searing pain in his back and the bandages that tugged at his skin. Noctis was there, too, peering over Ignis' shoulder and drumming his fingers on the doorframe.

"We thought you might want breakfast," Noct said.

Prompto nodded, running his hands through his messy hair. "What do I need to do?" he asked.

Noct and Ignis glanced at each other. "Eat?" Noct said.

"No, I mean," Prompto wasn't used to this. He'd heard of Lucis having different rules than Niflheim, but he hadn't thought they'd be _this_ strange. "What do I have to do before I eat?"

Confusion poured off Noctis in waves. "Wash your... hands? I guess?"

Ignis was frowning, thin-lipped and pensive in the light beyond the shed, and Prompto struggled to grin. "Uh, never mind," he said. "Not important."

He hesitated for a moment when they led him to the back door of the house, but Noct took his hand and jerked his head, an unspoken order. That, at least, Prompto understood. 

The house wasn't nearly as nice as Ardyn's. It didn't have any of the glossy paintings Prompto was used to, the gold drapes or chandeliers hung with crystal and glass. There were coats hanging up by the door, a photo of a pressed flower on the wall, and a wide, sunny kitchen with a polished table in the center. Someone had pinned up a chart with three names at the top, and a shelf in the hallway overflowed with books. Prompto placed his hand on the doorframe, trying to fix the sight in his memory. 

"It's not much," Noctis said, tugging Prompto through the door. "But it's okay."

There were already four plates waiting on the table for them, steaming with toast, eggs, bacon, and diced potatoes. Gladio was waiting, too, and Prompto had to force himself to keep following Noctis, dodging the alpha's stern gaze.

"You sure it's okay for me to be in here?" Prompto whispered.

"No," Gladio said.

" _Yes,_ " snapped Noct. Prompto froze. The alpha had given what was obviously an indirect order for Prompto to leave, but Noct didn't seem to care. Did he _like_ being punished? 

"Look, I can go," Prompto said. 

"I'm the pack leader here," Noct said, with a pointed look at Gladio. "And I say you're fine."

Prompto laughed. When no one else so much as twitched, he looked from Ignis to Noct. "You're kidding."

"What, they don't have omega-run packs in Niflheim?" Gladio asked. Prompto didn't meet his eyes. "You don't think omegas are up for it?"

"That's rich, coming from you," Noct said, pulling out a chair. 

"Maybe if you didn't bring enemy Niffs home..."

"Gentlemen, please." Ignis' shoulder brushed against Prompto, and Prompto sank into the beta's calming scent. "If you're going to start this again, wait until _after_ I've had my morning coffee." He smiled at Prompto and gestured to one of the plates. "Go on."

Prompto took his plate and set it on the floor.

There was a long, pregnant pause. Prompto looked to the other omega, who had already taken a seat, and Gladio, who had a piece of toast in his hand, hovering awkwardly as he stared at the plate on the ground, and felt heavy dread twist in his gut. Maybe they were right. Maybe Noct _was_ a pack leader, and none of the habits Prompto knew as safe worked anymore. He hastily picked up the plate again and looked at Ignis, praying he had an answer.

"We generally eat at the table here," Ignis said. 

Slowly, Prompto sat in the chair offered to him. He set down the plate and looked at Gladio's shoulder.

"Can I eat, or...?"

"Gods," Gladio said, standing with a shriek of wood on tile. "Niffs can't even send us a _good_ actor." He took his own plate and stalked off, heading for a small, simple living room beyond the open kitchen archway. Prompto let out a shaky breath.

"Don't listen to him," Noct said, and shoveled the tomatoes on his plate onto Prompto's. When Ignis gave him a scathing look, he grinned. "What? He needs it."

"Your selfless altruism is astonishing, Noct."

"Yeah," Noct said, stuffing a piece of bacon in his mouth. "I'm good like that."

With Gladio muttering to himself in the other room, breakfast went by in silence, full of meaningful stares passing over Prompto from all directions. Prompto tried to help with the dishes afterwards, but Noct made him sit still while he swapped out his bandages instead. By the time he was done, Ignis had moved outside to check the laundry, so Prompto beat a hasty retreat into the open air. He picked up the basket Ignis had left on one end of the line and hauled it over.

When Ignis turned to him, a bedsheet billowed around him in the breeze, like the crest of a wave breaking in a high wind. 

"Thank you," he said, and unpinned the sheet. "But it isn't necessary. You need to conserve your energy."

"Oh, I'm fine," Prompto said. He took one end of the sheet and helped Ignis fold it. "I had to do this for the whole pack, sometimes."

"Welcome to my life," Ignis said, with a wry smile. "Top in my class, and now I'm starching shirts." He set the sheet in the basket and turned to find Prompto had already taken care of the pillowcases. Prompto held onto the line, watching Ignis without really seeing him, gaze unfocused. In the distance, bees hovered over a plot of flowers, and a wind bent the green stalks. 

"Prompto?" Ignis asked. He slid a hand over one of Prompto's, warm and calloused. Prompto felt strangely light, as though he were drifting away from his body, listening to the flap and crack of cloth straining on the line. For a moment, the tranquility of the little yard broke apart, and Prompto saw the house razed, the garden trampled, and the dull mark of a boot on his neck. 

"He would hate to find me here," he said at last.

"He?" Ignis' voice was sharp. "Who's _he?_ "

"He doesn't like to lose," Prompto said. "And he'd never let an omega run things, like Noct does. Or speak out of turn, or shift when they aren't supposed to, or..."

"Or eat at the table?" 

Prompto turned to look towards the woods. Towards Niflheim. Ignis squeezed his hand, and carefully cradled the side of his face, running a thumb along Prompto's clenched jaw.

"Prompto," Ignis said, in a voice that came to him from miles away, muffled and light. "Who are you running from?"


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heads up! There's a flashback to Prompto's escape from Ardyn here, and there's a vague reference to a forced miscarriage in that part. If that is upsetting, start reading after the first set of dashes.

There was a hook in the middle of Ardyn Izunia's second best bedroom, framed by wine-red carpeting. It gleamed with the light of true silver, fixed in the center of a single tile that featured mermaids on a rock by the sea. Every now and then, the heavy chain attached to the hook would drag across the floor, and Ardyn Izunia would glance up from his accounts and flash a worrying little smile. 

"Oh, don't give me that look, my dear." Ardyn said the fourth time, when the chain had stilled and he returned to his ledger. "You'll have another chance. And if you don't prove to be a miserable disappointment this time, you may even be allowed to keep it."

A blue eye opened to fix a dull glare at Ardyn's back.

"After all, miracles do happen."

A bell rang at the door, and Ardyn set down his pen as a tall, willowy alpha appeared, long hair braided down his back in the style of the outlying regions of Niflheim. He stepped over the thin, muzzled wolf on the carpet and bowed, holding his place until Ardyn deigned to stand. 

"Alpha," he said. The members of Ardyn's pack rarely called him by name. "Your guard is waiting at the gate. Should we bring the omega?" 

The wolf at his back lifted his head.

"I'm afraid not," Ardyn said. "You know how this one gets after one of his little failures. He'll have to wait before he can be suitable company for anyone."

"Yes, sir." The alpha's expression didn't change. "Should he be fed while you're away?"

Ardyn shrugged on a long black jacket and looked down at the wolf on the floor. "If he earns it."

They left in a rush of cool air from the hallway, and the wolf who called himself Prompto bared his teeth against the supple leather of his muzzle.

True silver was hard to find in Niflheim, as mining it warranted a fine most couldn't afford to pay. But Ardyn Izunia had to have the best, and so the hook that held Prompto's chain was pure silver, soft enough for determined claws to bend and break. It stung and burned the skin, and Prompto had to stop several times to wait for the ache in his paws to lessen. But the metal gave at last, and the chain slipped free of the hook with a rough squeal of iron curling over the center tile. 

Prompto waited, panting through his muzzle, trying to remember what it felt like to think as a human. Humans could use doors, operate phones, grab weapons and steal food from the kitchen. But a wolf would be strong enough to break the stained glass of Ardyn's window, push through the weak spot in the fence, and run until morning. He bunched his hind legs, preparing to leap, and the door clicked open. 

Prompto overturned Ardyn's desk in his panic to fall back. Ink spilled over a mountain of notes and account books, falling like drops of blood on the carpet, smearing the faces of the mermaids on the tile. A candle tipped over and smoldered on the bed, burning a hole in Ardyn's expensive sheets, and Prompto shrank into the corner, wide-eyed and shaking.

The beta at the door examined the mess and groaned.

“Come on, kid,” she whispered. “It's just me.”

Prompto whined and slunk towards her, tail wagging, and Aranea, his only friend in the whole of Ardyn’s pack, bent down to hook her fingers under the clasp of his muzzle. 

“We’ve got a ten minute window,” she said, and Prompto shook out his head as the muzzle fell to the ground, the chain coiling at Aranea’s feet. He licked her face, mussing her fine white hair, and Aranea kissed his forehead.

“Let's do it, kid,” she whispered.

They broke the window using one of Ardyn’s favorite bronze busts, and ran across the moonlit grounds. Aranea was still human, holding a heavy bag over her shoulder, and Prompto looked up at it and whined softly.

“Fifteen bottles of peppermint oil,” she said, with a wicked grin. “Let’s see Ardyn track you through a whole mess of _that._ ” She stopped at the hole in the fence and gingerly set down the bag. Prompto shoved his nose into her face and whimpered. “No dice, kid. I gotta cover your trail. Just keep running for pack Besithia, alright?” She pointed to a collection of stars on the horizon. “That way.”

Prompto eyed the dark gap in the fence, and with one last, pleading look to Aranea, wriggled through it, taking off down the slope. 

He ran so far that he forgot the pain in his paws and the ache in his chest. He forgot where he was heading, lost the taste of his own name on his tongue, fell into the wild in-between state of a wolf without a human mind to anchor him. He ran until he heard the clatter of wooden bells in the bushes, and saw the dark-haired face of a creature he should have known the shape of, heard a sound that could have been a language he once spoke.

Then he stopped running, and he was given food, and touch, and kind words spoken into his fur, and Prompto finally remembered his name.

\---------------

Ignis stood before lines of clean laundry in his pack's backyard, and raised trembling hands to his mouth.

"You can't tell Gladio," Prompto said. Ignis slowly lowered himself to the grass. His scent, usually so level and mild, had sharpened to the acidic sting of distress, and he fumbled to remove his glasses. "If an alpha finds out I belong to someone else, they'll send me back. I can't--"

Ignis dropped his glasses, and Prompto bent to pick them up for him. "Gladio would never do such a thing," he said. 

Well, Prompto figured, they _were_ packmates. "Just in case," Prompto said. "And Noct can't--Gladio could just order him to tell--"

"He wouldn't." Ignis' voice rose unnaturally high, and Prompto fell back, sitting on his heels. "I... I apologize. Prompto." He held out his hands. "May I touch you?"

"Y-yeah, okay."

Ignis wrapped Prompto in his arms, holding his head down to his shoulder. He was still shaking, and Prompto could smell anger under the distress in Ignis' scent, hard as flint. He tensed, but Ignis only ran a hand through his hair. 

"What Ardyn has done is monstrous," Ignis said. Prompto heard a door open, and Ignis spoke faster, into his ear. "But no one here will return you to him. I swear, Prompto."

"Specs?" Noctis sounded lost. "I caught the change in your scent from the living room. Are you--are you _crying?_ "

Prompto pulled away, and saw that Ignis' eyes _were_ uncomfortably red. Noct dropped down at Ignis' side and brushed a thumb over his cheek, and Ignis scoffed.

"Don't mother me, Noct."

Noct grinned, but he was pushing out his scent so strongly that Prompto felt his own lids start to droop, weighed down with the force of Noctis' attempt at calm. 

"I'm in charge," Noct said, taking the glasses from Prompto and fixing them on Ignis’ nose. "So it's kind of my job."

"One you do well," Ignis said. Prompto tried to wriggle away, embarrassed to be caught in this odd display of pack bonding, but Ignis still held him, and Noct placed a hand on his back.

"Hey," Noctis said. "I know we're not pack, but my dad... my whole family, really... would disown me if I didn't do anything when someone's hurt. Being interfering assholes is part of the family business." He smiled, and Prompto smiled back. "So if something's wrong, you should tell me. Maybe I can help."

Prompto looked to the door of the house, where the pack alpha lay in wait, and back to the others. Ignis gripped his hand, squeezing his fingers tight. Noctis knelt before him, the strangest omega Prompto had ever seen, brimming with lazy confidence and an earnest good will. 

"Alright," Prompto said. In the face of Noct's soothing presence, even his own fears felt small. "If you really wanna know."

\-----------

That night, Prompto moved into the spare room down the hall from Gladio's, trailing the scent of freshly-washed linens and an overpowering bewilderment. Gladio asked Noct and Ignis about it in private, but Noct just stammered and Ignis sat in silent fury, scent spiking in erratic bursts Gladio hadn't felt since they were teens. So Gladio figured they'd tell him when they were ready, and when he woke up to an empty bed, he tried to tamp down the sense of mounting panic. He staggered through the dark to Prompto's new room, and opened the door with all the silence of a cat burglar.

Prompto was curled up on the floor of the bedroom, barefoot in one of Noct's old pajamas. Ignis slept on one side of him in wolf form, his light brown fur gone grey in the moonlight. On Prompto's other side, Noctis was a mockery of a sleek, beautiful creature with his paws in the air and his tongue lolling, snuffling as Prompto's hands dug into his silky black fur.

Gladio stood at the door for a long moment.

When Gladio left the shadows of Prompto's room to sit with his back against the wall of the hallway, the quilt on Prompto's bed had been pulled away and draped over the sleeping omega, carefully folded in at the ends to cover his feet and shoulders. Gladio cracked an eye open to examine his handiwork, then shifted, curling up with his nose to the door just in case. Hopefully when he woke, Prompto would think that Ignis or Noct had done it. No use letting him think Gladio was _soft,_ after all.

Noct huffed and whined in his sleep, and Ignis unconsciously inched closer, sandwiching Prompto between them. Gladio's eyes narrowed in a wolf's smile, and he lay his head on his paws. 

Not that there was anything wrong with being soft, he supposed, so long as no one caught on.

He closed his eyes, and the newest branch of the Lucis Caelum pack slept, cradling Prompto between them like the pulse of a heart they never knew was missing, stuttering out its first, tentative beat into the late summer air.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since this is super early on, Gladio is still too suspicious to open his mind to Prompto yet. This is from rkcart's werewolf AU, though, so they have all sorts of info regarding what happens to these wonderful nerds. [Check it out here!](http://ffxvwerewolfbois.tumblr.com)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> rkcart said its ok to just go ahead and write as far as I like, so... Let's see how this goes? I'm going to try to keep to rkcart's AU as closely as possible, and if you haven't already, check out their tumblr for some excellent content!

At the border of Lucis, as sunflowers drooped under the weight of their burdens and acorns started to litter the grass, a wolf sat on an old blanket and turned his face to the sun. The blanket was patterned with ducks, well-worn and a bit too small for even the scrawniest sixteen-year-old, let alone one who could turn at will into a wolf. At his side, Prompto crossed his skinny legs and ran a brush over immaculate black fur.

"Oh, you know you're pretty," he said, and the werewolf known as Noctis bared his teeth and shuffled his paws in assent. Prompto grinned and shook his head, running the brush down the back of Noctis' shoulders.

It was a lazy day: There had been almost six of them since Prompto stumbled into the middle of Noct's pack, starved and half wild with terror. Every hour felt slow and full of promise: Prompto had dipped his feet in a river while Noctis fished, watched fireflies rise from the warm grass at dusk, laughed hysterically while Ignis tried, for what he said was the seventh time, to put together a bee hive at the edge of Noct's territory. He'd avoided Gladio for the most part, too aware of the alpha's suspicious gaze, but couldn't stop himself from trying to read the covers of the books Gladio left scattered around the house. Unfortunately, Prompto had only just started to learn how to read when he was taken by Ardyn, so the most he could guess was that Gladio really liked books with half-naked men and women on the front.

He hummed as he brushed Noct, running his fingers through his impossibly silky fur. Noct closed his eyes and leaned into his touch, but his eyes flew open again when Prompto tensed at the scent of an approaching alpha.

"Really?" Prompto asked, as Gladio, a wolf who towered at least a head over Noct, shoved his head under Prompto's arm. "I wasn't doing anyth--" A growl threatened to rise in Gladio's throat, and Prompto sighed. He let himself be herded a few yards away, hands up, while Noct shook himself off and barked an order that Gladio chose to ignore.

He was deposited in the middle of the vegetable garden, and watched as Gladio sat heavily next to Noct, placed a paw on his back, and started grooming out the scent of Prompto's hands on his fur.

"Charming," Ignis said, from where he stood at the back door of the house. He was wearing his gardening clothes: an old band t-shirt and jeans that looked as out of place on him as suspenders were on Gladio. He was holding a handful of letters, one of which was already open, flapping in the summer breeze. He whipped it out and rounded on Gladio. 

"Care to explain why I hold a summons in my hand, Gladiolus?"

Gladio shot Ignis a glare that would have sent omegas and betas alike cowering in Niflheim, but Noct and Ignis didn't even react. Gladio got up instead, and stalked off towards the front lawn. Ignis' face flushed pink.

"Don't tell me you went wolf to avoid explaining yourself!" Ignis called. Gladio slunk around the corner. "Gladiolus Amicitia!"

Prompto carefully stepped over a tomato vine, inching closer to Noctis. "What's a summons?" he asked. 

Noct groaned and rolled over, shifting back into a human at the same time. He wrapped himself in the duck blanket and shook out his hair. 

"It's from my dad," Noct said. "He's kind of, uh. Kind of a big deal, I guess."

"Runs his own pack?" Prompto asked. He wondered if Noct's dad was an omega pack leader as well, like Noct. The idea of a tradition of powerful omegas made him smile a little: His old alpha would have hated it.

"You could say that," Noct said. "If he's sending us a summons, that probably means Gladio sent him a report about you--"

"He's recovering from a grueling ordeal," cried Ignis, from around the corner of the house, "and now he'll have to make a run to the capital?"

Gladio rounded the bend, human and fully naked save for a bright green towel tied loosely around his middle. Ignis followed at his heels, shaking the letter for emphasis.

"Have a little tact, Gladiolus!"

"Don't give me the full name treatment over this, Iggy," Gladio said. He glared at Prompto, who took a few measured steps away from Noct. "A Niff runs into our territory, I gotta tell Regis."

"Gladio, what the hell," Noct said.

"It's okay," Prompto said, and Gladio looked up at him sharply. "I mean, I'd be suspicious, too, I guess."

"Don't agree with me," Gladio said. "That makes it worse. Anyways, if the king gave us a summons, it means we have to go. It ain't _my_ fault."

Prompto frowned. "King?"

The yard fell silent, and the three pack members exchanged weighted glances before Noct turned to Prompto, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand.

"Uh, yeah," he said. "My dad's kind of. You know King Regis?"

Prompto shuddered. He'd definitely heard of King Regis. It was all Ardyn could talk about, sometimes, when he returned from border disputes to take out his fury on the closest omega he could find. 

_Soft-hearted fools,_ he'd said once, as Prompto tried to push himself away. _Too blinded by familial bonds to know what's good for them._ He'd closed his fingers over Prompto's throat, and Prompto had blacked out to the sound of Ardyn's breath in his ear, harsh and sharp and far too loud.

"Yeah," he said, in a weak voice. "Yeah, I know about the king."

"Oh. Good." Noct's face was quickly turning a patchy shade of red. "So. He's my dad. Which makes me--"

"Prince Noctis," Gladio said. His eyes seemed to bore right through Prompto, laying him bare. "One of the future heirs to the Lucian territory."

\-------------

In the end, they had no choice but to go. Prompto was fitted with his own travel bag, which could tie over a wolf's shoulders with ease, and rubbed lotion in his palms and toes to prepare for a long run. Ignis assured him that he wouldn't have to be in wolf form for more than a few hours, but Prompto still dreaded the shift, terrified that this time, he might forget himself completely.

"I'll be right there with you," Ignis said, while Noct and Gladio rough-housed at the edge of their property, yelping and batting at each other with soft paws. "You'll be safe."

They ran together, with Gladio flanking Prompto on one side and Ignis on the other, Noct taking the front as the pack leader. Prompto flinched every time they passed through another pack's territory and had to start up a warning howl, announcing their presence so the wolves who lived there didn't consider them invaders. As it was, more than one wolf passed by them, running alongside Noct, Ignis, or Gladio in a silent greeting before peeling off at the border of their territory. Then it would start all over again.

When they made it to the heart of Lucis, Prompto was ready to turn tail and run. The streets were well-tended, the houses close together and bursting with gardens, and as soon as Noct announced his presence, it seemed as though half the kingdom appeared to greet them. Prompto huddled up next to Ignis, but the beta wasn't enough to mask his scent, and he quailed under the furious looks of those who recognized a Niff in the middle of Noctis' pack.

A high building greeted them at the end of a long roadway, made of polished stone and hanging with black and blue banners. At the gate, Noct broke off to bound towards a young blond woman who stood by a window box full of blue blossoms, and she laughed and scruffed his ears with both hands.

"Dear Noctis," she said, and looked up at the others with a smile. The smile didn't fade when she saw Prompto pressed to Ignis' side, but her eyes changed, growing dark under narrowed brows. Prompto resisted the urge to whine.

"Ravus is out," she said, addressing Noct again, "so I can take you to father and mother. How was your trip? Do you need anything? Mother's been worried sick, but she won't say a thing, and I had to handle negotiations with Drautos' pack all day yesterday..."

Her voice trailed off as she and Noctis walked side-by-side through the wide oak doors. Gladio and Ignis followed a few paces behind, but as soon as they passed into the main hall, they all turned to Prompto.

The home of King Regis had high chandeliers that rose and fell in a wave-like pattern over the blue, vaulted roof. Tapestries and paintings lined the walls, ornamental vases dotted the floor and nestled up against high pillars, and the rug under Prompto's paws was thick and plush and too familiar to bear.

He couldn't breathe. There were alphas there, so many alphas, never mind how many omegas and betas lounged with them, laughter dying in the air as Prompto's fear permeated the room. He tried to count them, wondered dimly how many he could take before he broke, wondered if he'd run from Niflheim only to find its twin in Lucis, wondered if--

Pale, slender hands appeared in his vision, and the blond woman from the gate knelt before him. The calming scent she pushed out smelled vaguely floral, with a hint of ice and fresh earth, and she ran a hand up his nose and massaged the back of his ears.

"I imagine it's a great deal at once," she said, and leaned in close, lowering her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "When I was young, I used to pretend they were statues. It did help a little."

She continued to scratch his ears, breathing in time with the movement of her fingers, and Prompto's panic slowly started to recede. When he felt like he could move again, he shook out his ears and the woman stood, letting Ignis take her place. She walked at one side, a hand on Prompto's shoulders, while Ignis took the other, and between the two of them Prompto made it all the way to the end of the hall.

Two ornate thrones were carved into the stone at the top of a high stair. One was occupied by an older omega woman with the same eyes and stubborn chin as the woman at Prompto's side, and the alpha at her right had Noct's jawline and feather-soft hair. He stared at Prompto for a moment, and Prompto shrank down, bending his head and tucking his tail between his legs.

A long minute passed before the man spoke.

"Noctis," he said. His voice was soft, pleasant, but Prompto had met alphas with soft voices before, and it never changed what was coming. "It does us good to see you home. If you and your companions will retire to one of our changing rooms, we can arrange for a proper greeting."

"Luna, I'll need you here," the queen said, and the woman at Prompto's side let out a huff of breath. She scratched Prompto's fur one more time and winked.

"You'll be fine," she whispered, and her blue eyes crinkled at the corners. "Noctis will take good care of you."

\----------

When Regis met them again, he was alone in a small, sparsely decorated sitting room, a black cane propped up at his side. Ignis had been called to a briefing with Regis' beta, a gruff man who wore a sweater-vest under his uniform, and Gladio's father had practically dragged him into another room. So that left Noctis and Prompto, sitting close together on a chaise lounge while King Regis made tea. 

That alone was strange enough. Ardyn never lifted a finger to do something that an omega could accomplish for him, but King Regis seemed perfectly content to whisk the green tea in his bowl into a froth on his own. He poured small cups of it for Noctis and Prompto, and Noct had to steady Prompto's hands as he drew his cup close.

"I admit," the king said, as Prompto tried not to choke on his tea, "that the report Gladiolus gave us of a feral wolf prowling our borders seems to have been greatly exaggerated. How old are you, son?"

Prompto waited for Noct to respond to the bizzare question, and Noct nudged him in the side. When Prompto saw Regis looking at him expectantly, realization dawned, and he clenched his fingers around his cup.

"Sixteen, Alpha." Regis' face twitched. "I mean, your... king... ship? I don't--"

"Regis is fine." Prompto blanched, and the king's expression softened. "Or your majesty. Were you raised in Niflheim?"

"No, your majesty. Sort of. Maybe?" Prompto felt Noct place a hand on his back, and took a breath. "I used to be a Besithia. I don't really remember much."

Just bits and pieces. A voice, low and soft, singing a tune that Prompto used to hum when he was alone. A narrow face and a hand on his cheek. Beads clacking in braided hair, and crooning words, murmured over and over. _Baby. My baby._

Regis looked at Prompto closely, and Prompto took a hasty sip of his tea. "I recall going to a treaty signing five years ago," Regis said. "There was a boy on a leash--Ardyn said he was wild."

"Oh." Prompto blinked. "Yeah, I mean, yes, your majesty. I spilled the wine the night before, because the chain was too heavy, so he..." Noct's scent turned sour, and Prompto looked to him in alarm. "I mean, I messed up. I don't remember you, though, your majesty. I'm sorry."

"There were three packs in attendance, son. You will be forgiven." 

There it was again. That word. _Son._ Prompto's stomach churned, and the tea on his tongue tasted sharper than before. 

"Dad, you're freaking him out," Noct said, and the hand at Prompto's back traveled to his waist, pulling him close. Regis smiled, but it didn't seem true. His eyes were too pained, like the taste of the tea had turned for him, too.

"My apologies, Noctis." The king stared at them for a few seconds, his face unreadable. Then he leaned forward, and set his cup down on the table between them. 

"Lucis has firm laws in place protecting refugees," he said, looking Prompto in the eyes. "No matter where they used to live. Noctis, I will be extending your territory five miles to the east. I'll send a construction team to build you a guest house, in case Prompto needs privacy, and I can set up a loose patrol of the border if you so choose. Prompto, do you have reason to believe that Ardyn will follow you?"

Prompto didn't so much nod as jerk his head. 

"A patrol, then," Regis said. "It will have to be small, but I'll do what I can." 

Prompto looked to Noct, who was beaming at his father. "I'm a Niff, though," Prompto said. "What if I'm just here to--what if I'm what Gladio thinks I am?"

Noct snorted, and Regis shook his head. "Gladiolus is only eighteen, and still has much to learn of the world." Regis stood, and extended a hand to Prompto. "I can only hope that one day soon, he'll understand this."

Prompto took Regis' hand and slipped off the chaise, dropping to his knees on the carpet. Noct made a keening sound of distress in the back of his throat, but Regis only bent down, brushing a lock of hair out of Prompto's eyes. Prompto closed them, trying to remember a time when the scent of an alpha meant protection rather than danger, and touch was only ever a kindness.

\-----------

"This Niff cannot be trusted."

Clarus Amicitia shuffled papers on his desk, refusing to meet his son's shamefaced gaze. Gladio sank into his high-backed chair, but he figured that if his father's disappointment rose any higher, he might as well dig a hole in the middle of the carpet and live there. 

"I can't imagine why you spared the creature in the first place," Clarus said. "Your duty is to protect your omega, Gladio. This is how tragedies happen, letting enemies close enough to strike. And to allow him within range of the prince?"

Gladio's protests caught in his throat. _But he was whining, Dad. But he wasn't fighting back. But he was..._ He clenched his hands on the armrests of his chair.

Clarus ran a hand over his shaved head. "Well, it's too late now. He can only be contained until we find out what to do with him. And containing him is your task, Gladiolus."

"Ignis said." Gladio swallowed. "He said Prompto--the Niff used to be chained in Ardyn's room, that Ardyn used to--"

"Oh, yes, I read your report." Clarus' brows knit together. "I find that hard to believe. Omegas are cherished in every culture on the continent. No alpha would dare treat their packmates in such a manner, and no pack would allow that behavior to continue." He turned to the wall of books behind him, and pulled out a slim volume. He tossed it to Gladio, who caught it, staring down at the embossed words on the cover.

"The Eater of Stars," Clarus said. "A series of poems extolling the virtues of the first Niflheim omega packmate. This book is a staple in the region, read to nearly every pack. Would a country like this, even one that creates a man as slippery as Ardyn, possibly mistreat their omegas?"

Gladio flipped open the book, skimming through the pages. 

_My love is a pillar in the temple,_ he read.  
_in his hands, he bears the sky._

"Guess not," he said, thinking of Noct's dark hair, disappearing in the blackness of a country night. He looked up at the portrait of Aulea on the wall, next to a small painting of the royal family, and let his gaze fall to the four year-old Noctis on his father's lap, his shy smile frozen in oil and canvas.

"At best, this Niff is lying about his reasons to leave," Clarus said. "At worst, he is here on Ardyn's orders. If Noctis and Ignis are already taken in by his deception, then the onus falls on you to remain vigilant. Don't let me down, Gladiolus."

"I won't, Dad," Gladio said, holding the book tight in white-knuckled fingers. "I promise."


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I make a reference the first part of Prompto's heat here, but I mostly pick up where rkcart's depiction of the event leaves off, so there isn't any smut. The first part of Prompto's heat can be found here: [Link ahoy!](http://rkcart.tumblr.com/post/166207121746/ok-gotta-ask-what-happened-for-promptos-first)

"Hello, house," Noctis said the next day, shoving past Ignis to sprawl on the front door of his home. He was naked, having just shifted back after their five hour run, and Prompto coughed to hide the laugh that came bubbling out of him at the sight of Noct nearly making sweet love to six feet of mahogany.

"Dude," Prompto gasped. "I'm never touching that thing again." 

"You don't get it, Prompto," Noct said. "Prompto. Promp. Prom."

He fumbled with the handle and collapsed on the mat, swooning dramatically. Gladio rolled his eyes in disgust and walked over him, tail swishing in his face. 

"Have you ever wanted your own place so bad you thought you'd die?" Noct asked the ceiling. "That's me every time I go home. If someone calls me _your highness_ one more time..."

Ignis shifted and gingerly stepped around Noct. "Do try to let others pass," he said, and graced Noct with the ghost of a smile. "Highness."

Noct wailed, grabbed Ignis by the foot, and tugged him down. Ignis crashed on top of him in a tangle of gangly limbs, and shoved a hand in Noct's face in an attempt to rise. 

"Prompto!" Noct shouted, through Ignis' fingers. "It's mutiny! Help me!"

Prompto grinned and raised his hands. "Sorry, dude," he said. "I'm not pack."

"Treachery," Noctis said, and yelped as Ignis wrapped an arm around him, hauling him to his feet. Prompto walked at Ignis' heels as the beta dragged his pack leader into the house, dropping him at last on the floor of the living room. 

"Let it be known," Ignis announced to the room at large. "That on this day, Ignis Scientia Caelum is officially, as they say, done. If any _civilized_ persons have need of me, I'll be in the bath. For the next three days, if at all possible."

"It wasn't my fault we ran through the swamp, Iggy," Noct said, but Ignis only narrowed his eyes and made for the bathroom door.

Prompto sat on the floor next to Noct. "I know what you mean, though," he said. "About having your own place."

"Yeah?" Noct reached for Prompto's hand, and laced their fingers together. He was still breathing hard from his scuffle, smiling as he panted. "What was yours like? The one you wanted?"

Prompto shrugged. "Somewhere quiet. I was thinking my parents’ territory, but I got turned around..." Prompto looked around the living room, at the muted walls and simple furnishings, the sun setting through the windows beyond. Everything had happened so fast, and then he'd been so, so _happy_ , and he'd forgotten that he was still so close to the border. What if Ardyn suspected?

What if he knew, and he was just biding his time, waiting for the right moment to steal him back? 

Noct pulled his hand free, and brushed Prompto's cheek with his fingertips. "Prom," he said, and Prompto caught his breath, feeling his touch like an electric thrill through his skin.

"Alright, Niff, we're done here." Noct sat up with a jolt. Gladio stood at the entrance to the main hallway, glaring Prompto down. "You're gettin' way too close."

"He's as close as I want him to be," Noct said, but Prompto was already standing. There was an edge to Gladio's voice that he knew too well, and the memory of Ardyn was too fresh in his mind. He kept his hands up as he skirted around Gladio, then darted for his bedroom door. 

He shoved a small end-table under the door handle and climbed onto the bed, waiting for the sun to rise, or for sleep to take him.

The sun rose, and Gladio, it seemed, had finally turned. He wouldn't let Prompto within two feet of Noctis for more than a minute, and followed him everywhere. He was quicker to growl, quicker to manhandle Prompto out of the way, and Ignis stuck to Prompto's side like a burr, meeting Gladio's growl with his own muffled rumble.

Prompto was prepared for it, though: He knew how to survive alphas. He kept his head down, ate while he helped Ignis prepare meals, and scurried off when everyone else went to the table, despite Noct’s protests. He kept himself busy, because an omega without something to do was an omega with a target on their back, and he always asked before he did anything. Even coming inside, or bathing, or going to bed. It seemed to confuse Gladio a little, but it was a small price to pay for staving off an alpha's temper.

There were some odd moments, though. Once, when Gladio had gone to bed, banished to his own bedroom, Prompto picked up a book he'd left behind. It was blue, bound in worn leather, and when Prompto opened it, it didn't have the daunting wall of text he was used to. He sank into the couch and mouthed the words, whispering them in a slow, halting voice.

"He returns to me, and says,  
Let our love not bind us  
But be a wind up... upon? Up on? Which. Which our hearts rise, a hhh. Ha. Oh, shit."

"Harmony," said Gladio, and Prompto dropped the book in his lap. "The word you're looking for is harmony."

"Sorry," Prompto said. He set the book down and rose. Gladio fiddled with the ends of his hair and glanced at the book.

"You never read that before?" he asked.

"I don't read much at all," Prompto admitted. "Ardyn said omegas shouldn't. So." He shrugged. Gladio's frown deepened, and he leaned down to pick up the book. He tossed it, Prompto flinched, and the book clattered to his feet. Prompto picked it up, bending the cover back the right way.

"It's a good one," Gladio said, in an odd, stilted voice. "You should give it a try."

This time, it was Gladio who retreated, leaving Prompto alone with a book of poetry and a whine of confusion in his throat.

A few days later, he caught Gladio going through one of the bookshelves, pulling books down, flipping through them, muttering, then putting them back. He set a handful aside, picked one up, and made to turn around. Prompto ducked behind the wall and heard Gladio make an inquisitive sound, footsteps thudding on the wood floor. He fled, but when he came back later to check, the books were still there, stacked neatly on the shelf.

Then his heat struck.

Prompto should have known it was coming. He tried to tell Noct this, during a rare moment of lucidity between sobbing on the floor of Noct's room and clinging to the other omega like a man lost at sea.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I'm sorry."

"Nothing to be sorry about, Prom," Noct said, pushing out as much of a calming scent as he could manage. Prompto looked up at him with vague, glassy eyes. 

"There was an alpha," he said, and Noct winced. "He can help. Please, I'll be good, I won't fight, please."

Noct crooned faintly and kissed Prompto's sweating brow. He could smell Gladio's fear from the hallway, hear his voice as he spoke to Ignis, high and strained with panic.

"I wasn't awake," Noct heard. "I thought he was Noct. Gods, Ignis, what if he's--What if I--"

Prompto whimpered in Noct's arms, and Noct gently pet his hair.

"You're okay," he said. "You're fine, Prom."

Prompto only whined, and Noct wrapped him tighter in his blanket, whispering words of comfort that crumbled to ash in his mouth.

Prompto lounged in Noctis’ room for two days after his heat was done. When he emerged from the bathroom on the third day, dressed and scrubbed as clean as he could get without scouring off his skin, Prompto prepared himself for a humiliating apology. It was bad enough, he thought, missing the signs of his heat until it was too late, but to blindly stumble after an alpha, to seek him out…

“Don't do it,” Noct said, when Prompto told him what he meant to do. “You didn't know what you were doing. Maybe Gladio didn't know, either, but he feels like shit about it, believe me.”

Prompto gave Noct a dubious look. “Sure,” he said. “That’s likely.”

Noct said nothing, but by the end of the day, Prompto had to admit that something had definitely changed.

Gladio still followed him, but from a distance, hovering awkwardly out of the corner of his eye. He spent a good part of the day as a wolf, sulking in the garden with his shoulders hunched and Ignis' hand on his head, and when Prompto made a wide berth around him on his way back from fishing with Noct, Gladio let out a plaintive whine. 

Then at dinner, while Prompto was picking pieces of grilled tomatoes off the pan, Gladio cleared his throat. 

"You should..." 

Prompto turned. Beside him, Ignis lay a hand on Prompto's shoulder. Gladio's cheeks turned a ruddy pink.

"You should sit down," Gladio said.

One of the tomatoes popped.

"But I can eat outside if it's an issue," Gladio added. His voice was steadily rising in pitch, like a building whine.

"For the love of." Noctis slammed a hand on the table, and Prompto jumped. "Prom. Let me translate, since you speak an actual language and Gladio speaks Emotionally Constipated Alpha."

"Hey," Gladio said, some of the gruff edge returning to his voice.

"He means he's sorry," Noct said. "He'd get on his knees and grovel, but he's, you know, emotionally constipated, so he'll probably explode."

"Oh," Prompto said. He didn't know what else to say. "Do you mean it?"

Noct and Ignis turned to look at Gladio, whose face darkened. 

"Yes," he said, after a long pause. 

"Oh," Prompto said again. 

So he sat down, wedged between Noct and Ignis, and worked his way through the best and most awkward stir fry of his life.

Halfway through, Gladio made a sound like a rusted gear turning and said, "Are you... okay?"

"Good gods," Ignis muttered.

Prompto shrugged. "I guess?"

"That's... good," Gladio said. Noct placed his head in his hands.

“Yes,” Prompto said. Ignis made a strangled sound.

“Good,” said Gladio again, and accidentally tipped over a bowl of rice.

"Well," Ignis said, as the bowl rolled to a stop in the middle of the kitchen and Noctis tried to smother himself with his hands. "I’d say that went about as well as expected."

 

\---------

Another week passed, and the awkwardness of Prompto’s unexpected heat started to dissipate, lost under ridiculous stories from Noct and Ignis’ promise that he’d make a chart for Prompto to track his heats properly. That was enough to brighten Prompto’s mood, and even Gladio’s continued surveillance couldn't bring him down. After all, it looked like none of the rules Prompto knew really did apply, there. Maybe Lucis _was_ a place Prompto could get used to. Maybe in time, Prompto could remember his life in Niflheim as a bad dream, a cloud passing over the water.

He stayed up late with Noctis most nights, curled up in thick blankets and whispering loud enough to wake Gladio from his watch at the door. Prompto sat on the kitchen counter when Ignis made coffee in the morning, and closed his eyes to the feel of idle fingers in his hair. He trailed after Ignis afterwards, holding reports from the capital that Ignis had to file, doing laundry in the river while Noct fished upstream, catching Ignis’ hand as they walked the new five miles of Noct’s territory. 

Close to two weeks after Gladio’s uneasy apology, Prompto went alone with Ignis to the open air market a little ways south, where Ignis bought him a jar of honey and a new red vest. They dipped into the honey on the way back, sharing the comb between them, and kicked up dust on their way up the front drive.

They were washing up in the kitchen when Prompto sensed it. He froze, water running over his still hands, and Ignis turned off the tap.

“Prompto?” Ignis asked. “Is something--”

“Someone’s here,” Gladio said. He strode past them, through the back door, and Ignis and Prompto staggered after him. Gladio stopped in the middle of the lawn, scenting the air, and a breeze brought the rattle of bells and the scent of an alpha winding across the lawn.

Prompto grabbed at Ignis’ back, breathing hard, as a nightmare emerged from the woods, dragging Noctis along with a fist in his fine black hair.

“Good afternoon,” said Ardyn Izunia, smiling wide in the blazing sun. “I believe you have something of mine.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried to keep this as close to rkcart's outline of this scene as possible, so I kept a few lines of dialogue the same. Rkcart's depiction of this scene is legit amazing. [Check it out here!](http://rkcart.tumblr.com/post/165610838376/how-gladio-came-to-finally-trust-and-accept)

Noctis’ feet dragged at the earth as Ardyn brought him forward, thick fingers digging painfully at the base of his skull. His teeth were gritted, hands clutching at the meat of Ardyn's arm, but the alpha walked inexorably forward, holding Gladio's heart in his hand.

Ardyn's smile was beatific. "And will you look at this?" he said, as though noticing his captive for the first time. "It seems that I have something of yours as well! I believe a trade is in order, don't you?" 

He shook his hand, and Noct hissed in pain.

Noctis. His prince. His leader. His _mate._

Of course, this had always been the plan. Fury rose in Gladio in a searing wave, rage at his own failure, at Ardyn, at the simpering, double-crossing omega who had pulled them into this trap. He whirled on Prompto with a snarl.

" _You--_ "

His voice caught, and the fire that consumed him gave way to the heavy chill of horror.

Prompto could barely stand. He was shuddering, in jerky, convulsive shivers that made his fingers slip on Ignis' shirt and his knees bend and buckle. His face was deathly pale, tears streaking down his cheeks to stain his quivering mouth, and the scent of fear that rose from him was so strong that Gladio could taste it, sharp as copper, thick as blood. 

He stumbled, and as Ignis wrapped an arm around Prompto's waist to hold him up, the truth of Gladio's failure struck him like a physical blow.

It had never been an act. Prompto's mincing behavior, the overeager attempts to please and placate, the painful allusions to terrors that even the bravest man would struggle to survive, they were all true. And Gladio, the man who had spent his whole life idolizing the great protectors of Lucis, the man Ignis once said could have his heart exposed to find the words _big brother_ etched in his core, had seen a suffering omega fall into the first safe haven of his life, and had taken that safety away.

Ignis met Gladio's gaze, steel behind his cold green eyes, and Gladio _knew._ They could never give Prompto back to Ardyn. 

But Ardyn had their prince.

Slowly, Ignis shook his head at Gladio, and began to push Prompto forward.

\------------

_No._

Prompto couldn't speak. He was beyond it, now, spiraling into the dark maw of grief that opened up beneath him the moment Ignis' grip tightened. 

Ignis. Ignis, the one who had fed him, who coaxed the humanity into his matted fur, who had taken him in his arms in front of wind-blown lines of laundry and _promised,_ was giving him up to Ardyn. The tears came thick, now, choking Prompto as he tried to breathe around the heavy hand that had closed about his heart. 

Just a few minutes ago, Ignis had handed him the last piece of honeycomb from the jar, and had smiled at him with something that could have been affection. Like Prompto was a person. Like Prompto had meant something.

But he wasn't pack. In the end, Prompto should have known he had no place there. He was still a stranger, an invader, bringing a monster into the life this pack had made. He should have never run in the first place.

Who would ever want a broken thing like Prompto, when they could have someone whole?

Ardyn smiled, and Prompto saw the shape of his life take form in the curl of his lips.

"Ah," Ardyn said, as Noctis frantically tried to shake his head, pleading silently with Ignis. "That's a good lad." Prompto let out a wrenching sob, but Ignis only held him tighter, pushing him under Ardyn's indulgent smile.

"Our omega," Ignis said shortly, and Ardyn raised an eyebrow. "We'll have him first."

Prompto tried to lurch out of Ignis' arms. He couldn't think, couldn't even smell the anger that poured off Ignis like steam. He didn't see the look Ignis and Gladio exchanged over his head, or the way Gladio's feet moved in the grass, bracing himself for a leap. He only saw Ardyn, who looked down at Noctis with affected disinterest before pushing him into Gladio's arms.

Gladio shoved Noct behind him, sending him stumbling into the dirt, and Prompto's breath left him as Gladio leapt

As Gladio leapt between him and

As Gladio

Gladio struck Ardyn as a wolf, snarling in rage, and Prompto got one look at Ardyn's open-mouthed expression of shock before Ignis whirled him around, pushing him away from the alphas. Prompto looked over his shoulder as Noct caught him in a tight embrace, and saw Ardyn shift from under Gladio, teeth snapping close to the exposed line of Gladio's neck.

"We don't have time," Ignis shouted. He pulled Prompto out of Noct's arms and lifted him bodily off the ground. "Noctis, run."

Prompto wrapped shaking arms around Ignis' neck, and looked up just in time to see Gladio go reeling from a blow to his side, digging deep trenches in the grass. Then the back door slammed, and he heard Ignis' breath in his ear, Noct's hands fumbling at the lock. It wasn't until the darkness of the linen closet closed over them that he realized what had happened.

They hadn't given him to Ardyn.

Outside, he could hear snarling, high yelps of pain, and the crack of something heavy hitting the wall. He curled up in Ignis' lap, hardly aware of how high he was keening, closing his eyes to the touch of Ignis' hands in his hair. Noctis settled next to them, an arm around Ignis' waist, nuzzling into Prompto's neck with just a hint of desperation. Ignis took Noct's head in his other hand and crooned into the dark, holding them both as the fight raged outside.

When silence fell at last, Prompto was the first to lift his head. Noct and Ignis looked so young, there in the dark, and the fear that had taken him twisted into a new shape, cold and terrible. Prompto struggled up, holding Ignis' shoulders for balance, and turned for the door. Ardyn wanted Prompto. If it meant keeping Ignis and Noctis out of Ardyn's hands, then Prompto would have to--he just needed to--

He reached for the door, and it swung open before his fingers could grasp the slotted wood.

An alpha stood there, dark against the light of the hall. Blood ran down the side of one leg and over his bare chest, streaking an ugly line along his abs. Prompto could just see the twist of a smirk on his lips, and the gleam of the scar over his eye as he turned from the light.

"Gladio!" Prompto couldn't tell if Ignis was about to laugh or cry. 

Noct's voice rang in Prompto's ear. "Is he gone?"

Gladio's amber eyes fixed on Prompto, and Prompto held his breath. "Yeah," Gladio said. "Sent that creep howling back to Niflheim. He won't try that a second time."

Prompto stared up at him, feeling lost. He didn't know what this meant. Why Gladio fought Ardyn in the first place, when Noctis was already safe. Why he was looking at him so strangely, fondness in his eyes. It was as though something had shaken loose in Gladio during the fight, making him look at Prompto the way he would at Ignis or Noctis.

Like someone _precious._ Someone wanted.

Gladio sank to his knees. 

Prompto blinked at the scent that hit him, then. It was warm, like the time Prompto had snuck a whiff of the spiced tea in the pantry, like the heat of laundry drying in the sun. It swept over the fear in Prompto's mind, folding it as gently as Ignis folded Noct's shirts, pushing it down. And it was coming from Gladio.

Prompto never knew that an alpha could do that. Noct made a soft sound as Gladio pulled Prompto out of Ignis' lap and into his, and Prompto's mind blazed with alarm before Gladio's hands rubbed his back and the scent draped over him again.

He felt... safe. That's what it was. Gladio's scent felt _safe._

He was dimly aware of Gladio speaking over his head, level and calm as a beta, saying things Prompto had never really thought to believe before. _It's okay. You're safe here. You'll never go back to him, we'll never let him hurt you again. Prompto, Prompto..._

But Prompto was already gone. He fell into darkness, tears drying on his cheeks, hands curled on Gladio's bloodstained chest.

He only stirred once, when the scent that kept the fear at bay retreated at last. Prompto opened his eyes to Noct's sleeping face, pressed to the soft sheets of the bed, and lifted a knuckle to the other omega's cheek. Noct twitched and wrapped an arm around Prompto's shoulders. 

In the hallway, Prompto could hear Ignis' voice. He lifted his head an inch to peer over Noct's shoulder, and saw Ignis with his arms folded, looking Gladio up and down with a critical eye. Gladio laughed, and Ignis' smile in response was weak and shivery. Prompto wanted to call him over, to smooth Ignis' lips with his fingers, to feel the warmth of this unusual pack around him. But sleep pulled him down again, and Prompto fell into it, sighing as Noctis pressed soft lips to the cool, sweat-damp skin of his neck.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And some fluff and cuddles, because good god is that needed!

That morning, just as dawn crested the tree line at the edge of their territory, Gladio found Prompto standing alone in the yard.

He was still wearing his bloodstained vest from the day before, but Noct must have convinced him to put on one of his old hoodies sometime in the night. The royal black brushing his skin made Prompto look like a small, pale ghost, drifting along the tall grasses by the garden. There was a strange sort of beauty there, hidden in the sharp curve of his cheekbones, the firm line of his mouth and his long, dark lashes. Gladio was reminded of the ceremonial knives hanging up in his father's study. Rumor had it that they were wielded by an omega queen in the third century, who used them to cut down an alpha who threatened her children. 

"Do not presume," she'd said, laying the dead alpha out on the dais before the throne, "that the heart of an omega is anything less than steel."

That had been true enough: Her reign saw three wars fought in her name alone. Judging by the look in Prompto's eyes as he faced the long miles to Niflheim, Gladio could almost see why.

"Hey," Prompto said. He didn't look at Gladio, but kept staring into the middle distance, arms crossed tight over his chest. Gladio kept a few feet back, resisting the urge to pull Prompto into the safety of the house.

"You doing okay?" he asked.

Prompto took a long breath, and scuffed his feet against a scar in the earth, where Gladio and Ardyn had dug holes in the turf. A flock of sparrows wheeled out of the trees and made a small cloud against the rising sun.

"Why'd you do it?" Prompto asked. He tugged his hood up, casting his face in shadow. "He gave you what you wanted."

Gladio never knew guilt could be so visceral a pain, heavy and tight in his chest. He took a step, and stopped when Prompto tensed. "I couldn't let Ardyn take you," Gladio said. "Not after what he did to you."

"Thought I was an actor," Prompto said. Gladio winced. He _deserved_ that.

"I was wrong." It hurt like a wrench to say it, but Prompto needed to know where they stood. "You don't have to forgive me. You don't have to do anything you don't want to."

"Then I don't want to go back to him," Prompto said, in a flat voice.

"You won't."

"I don't want to leave, either." There was a hint of defiance there, as though Prompto were waiting for Gladio to correct him.

"Then stay."

"I'm not going back," Prompto said. He stood there in silence for a moment, then whirled on his heels, lips curving in a smile. "I'm never gonna wash his dirty shirts again."

"His fashion sense is trash, anyways," Gladio said. "Are you thinkin' of the ruffled shirt, the one he was wearing?"

"Yeah," Prompto said. "It's the one he wears to charm people in."

"Ripped to shreds," Gladio said, and had to smile a little at Prompto's grin. 

"You're kidding!" Prompto walked in a tight circle, holding his hair in both hands. "Oh my gods, and his boots. I'm never gonna _look_ at a can of boot polish for the rest of my life."

"Fuck shoes," Gladio said. 

"Damn right!" Prompto bounced on his toes. "No one's gonna muzzle me, either!"

Gladio opened his mouth, but the words wouldn't come. They stuck in his throat, thick as cotton, as Prompto turned a beaming face to the sky.

"He can't touch me," Prompto said.

"We won't let him," Gladio said, and Prompto closed his eyes to the wind that swept in from Niflheim, clear of all but the scent of earth and swift-running water.

"Neither will I."

\---------

Ignis was in the kitchen when they came in an hour later, pouring himself a cup of coffee by the sink. His eyes were red-rimmed with lack of sleep, and he hadn't bothered to style his hair, which hung over his glasses in unruly clumps.

"Hey, Ignis!" Prompto made a beeline for the kitchen, leaving Gladio to wipe his feet on the mat. "Gladio was telling me about what he did to Ardyn. He broke his _arm,_ can you believe it?" Prompto brushed Ignis' hair out of his eyes, and Ignis smiled down at him.

"Yes, he told me last night."

"That means Ardyn had to walk home," Prompto said. He took Ignis' empty cup, hardly noticing that his hands were shaking. "Everyone in Niflheim's gonna see him limp in with... What was it?"

"Four scars on his neck," Gladio said, locking the door behind him.

"Four!" Prompto missed the mug, and Ignis steadied his hands before coffee could splatter all over the counter. 

"What the hell, guys?" Noct emerged from the hallway, draped in blankets and dragging his feet on the tile. His hair looked like it had been swept through a whirlwind, and he gave Ignis and Gladio accusatory glares. "Are we really doing this? Right now? At the ass-crack of dawn?"

"No one's forcing you to get out of bed, princess," Gladio said. Noct growled low in his throat, clutching the blankets in a tighter grip.

"The bed was empty, and I was worried about." He stopped, and Prompto felt everyone's gazes slide towards him. "You know."

"I'm okay," Prompto said, after the silence had stretched a moment too long. "Really."

"But maybe you and Noct should go to the living room for a bit," Ignis said, taking the coffee pot from Prompto. "I can bring you breakfast there." 

Prompto looked at Noct, only half awake and swaying on his feet, and shrugged. Noct dragged him off to the living room with surprising strength, where the two of them fell onto one of the wide couches, tangled in Noct's blanket. Prompto was still rearranging the blanket when Noct passed out, head in his lap, one leg dangling off the edge of the couch. He brought this up to Ignis when the beta came by with what looked like the gutted remains of half a pastry shop, but Ignis shook his head.

"He slept through a thunderstorm once," he said, setting down the plate. "Just push him off if he clings."

But Prompto couldn't quite bring himself to do it. He spent at least a full morning trapped on the couch with Noct sprawled over his lap in varying states of snooze. He started naming them after a while: The Full-Body Curl, The Drooler, The Upside-Down Housecat. He learned what a sleepy purr sounded like in a human throat when he ran his hands through Noct's hair, and laughed at the growl that rose when Prompto stopped. 

Noct woke up at last to eat what was left of Prompto's breakfast, still lounging over his knees in full housecat mode. Prompto laughed so hard at Noct's attempt to eat upside-down that it took him a minute to realize that Gladio was calling his name from the other end of the room.

“I’ve been thinking,” Gladio said, when Prompto turned to stare.

“What, you?” Noct said, through a mouthful of bread and honey. Gladio smirked.

“That one stopped working when you were ten, brat.”

“Doesn't make it less true, dork.”

Gladio coughed, and Noct snickered. “Thing is. Prompto. I thought maybe you might want to… I don't know. Have a refresher.” He gestured to the stack of books Prompto had spotted before. “If you want.”

Prompto looked at Noct. “Do I need a translation for that one?”

“Don't ask me.”

“I mean I can teach you to read,” Gladio said. 

Prompto waited for an explanation, but none came. "Why?”

“Because he’s a giant nerd,” Noct said, “and he wants someone to talk to him about his shitty fantasy books.”

“Do I have to?” Prompto asked. 

“No,” said Gladio and Noct at the same time. 

“But it ain't right,” Gladio added, as though to himself. He looked away, fingers twitching on his books. 

For a while, the only sound in the room was Gladio’s fingers drumming on the cover of a worn paperback. Then Prompto grabbed Noct by the hand and dragged him over to the couch where Gladio was, wedging Noct between him and the alpha. Noct smiled crookedly, and Gladio scrambled for his books, fanning them out on the coffee table.

“Okay,” he said, as if Prompto were about to run at any second. Admittedly, Prompto wasn't sure, either. “Okay. So I got four books that I think are on your reading level. _Love in the Time of Chocobos, A Kwark to Remember, Good Prophecies--_ ”

“Chocobos,” Prompto said, and Noct groaned softly. Gladio tossed the book to Prompto, and swung an arm around Noct’s shoulders.

“You read one page,” Gladio said, “and I’ll read the next. If you don't know how to say anything, don't skip it. We’ll look it up. So it should start on the third page, with Call Me Sephiroth.”

“Please kill me,” Noct whispered. 

Prompto nudged him with a shoulder and cracked open the book. 

“Call me Sephiroth,” Prompto said. “Some years ago--never... mind how long… Okay, I got one. P. R. E…”

“Got it,” Gladio said, and grabbed a thick book. He passed it to Noct, who passed it to Prompto. “It’s under P. P as in Prompto.”

Prompto smiled despite himself, and was surprised to find that for one second, Gladio didn't feel like an alpha at all. Just someone young, and earnest, and maybe a little excitable. He returned to the books in his lap and flipped through them while Noctis slowly fell asleep again on his shoulder, passing out in the face of what Prompto suspected was the sappiest romance in the modern era.

Prompto drifted off in the beginning of chapter two, the book slipping from his fingers. He curled up against Noctis, arms wrapped around one of his, and Gladio lifted a hand to shake him awake before he heard a light cough from the door. Ignis stood there, tea in hand, one brow raised in an expression neither of them had to interpret. Gladio stepped back, and Ignis ran a hand over his arm as he passed. 

“He seems to be doing well," Ignis said. He passed the tea to Gladio, and Noct moved Prompto a little, letting him sink into his lap. The three packmates watched the omega's fingers curl in his sleep, and Noct reached out to touch his hair.

"I want him to stay," Noct said, in a voice so soft Ignis and Gladio had to strain to hear.

"No one will object, Noct," Ignis said, with a cursory glance at Gladio. 

"He can stay as long as he wants," Gladio whispered, but Noct frowned, carding his fingers through Prompto's hair.

"Not like that," Noct said. He looked to Gladio and Ignis, and dragged his lower lip between his teeth. "I don't just want him to _stay._ "

"I want to make him pack."


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, this is based off rkcart's delightful werewolf AU. Be prepared for some serious fluff ahead!

Noctis was planning something.

At first, Prompto thought he was being paranoid, made jumpy and tense by Ardyn's arrival. In the end, though, Noct had all the subtlety of a behemoth on a rope bridge. He followed Prompto out of the corner of his eyes, cut off whispered conversations when Prompto appeared, and asked him strange, guarded questions about pointless things like his favorite food or what kind of music he liked. He started showing Prompto more of their territory, too, taking him on walks with packed lunches dangling from Noct's jaws and thermoses in Prompto's arms. He even went with Prompto and Ignis to the market, and watched him like a hawk until Ignis had to clear his throat and give him a meaningful look.

"How do you feel about this?" Noct asked one day, pointing to the flower garden Gladio had painstakingly plotted. "I mean, is this the kind of thing you like?"

"I guess," Prompto said, and Noct made a face. "It's. You know, nice."

"Nice," Noct said, a little darkly. "Right. So no flowers."

"No flowers for what?" Prompto asked, and Noct stared at him, mouth open, for almost half a minute before he abruptly shifted into a wolf. Prompto let out a bark of laughter.

"Dude, what are you--" Prompto remembered Gladio's behavior around Ignis when he first arrived, and squinted at his friend. "You aren't trying to hide something, are you?"

Noct snapped at a butterfly and trotted off.

"You are!" Prompto shouted, and stomped after him, picking up discarded and shredded clothes as he went. Noct bounded for the butterfly again, and Prompto had to hold back a laugh. "Don't be cute when you're avoiding me, Noct!"

He also tried staying awake when Gladio and Prompto read together, which was definitely a troubling sign. There was one point, when Gladio and Prompto were debating about a passage on love, that Noct lurched off the couch and started _writing notes._ He stopped when Gladio and Prompto fell silent, then slowly inched his way out of the room.

"Huh," Prompto said, after a minute. "You don't know what that was about, do you?"

"Not a clue," Gladio said smoothly, turning a page. Prompto looked to the door, staring at the poorly-concealed mop of dark hair beside a potted ficus, and tried to figure out just what had gone wrong.

It came to a head a few weeks after their confrontation with Ardyn. Noct woke up at dawn, which was worrying enough, and spent a good two hours in the bathroom fixing his hair. When he came out to find Prompto sitting on the kitchen counter next to Ignis, he whined loudly. 

"I was gonna give you breakfast in bed," he moaned. Prompto, who still had a piece of toast in his mouth, gave a muffled whine of his own.

Ignis raised a hand to his forehead and sighed.

"I can't watch," he whispered, and patted Prompto on the knee. He left the kitchen with a cryptic cry of "Chin up, Noct," and Noctis twisted his hands together, eyes fixed on the toast drooping from Prompto's mouth.

"Yrr hmrmfr lks nrsh," Prompto said, and spat out the toast. "Your hair looks nice."

"Oh, thanks." Noct's cheeks went an interesting shade of red. "Maybe we should. Maybe, wait. No, I have it backwards. Wait there."

He fled for the hallway, and Prompto whined faintly, his voice keening in the empty kitchen.

When Noct returned, he had a small box in his hands, wrapped in glossy black ribbon. "I got this for you," he said, pushing it in Prompto's slightly buttery fingers. "It's a metaphor."

"Uh."

Noct's face went, if anything, darker still. "I mean you'll get the metaphor when you open it," he said.

"Not helping, dude," Prompto said with a grin, and tugged the black ribbons free. The box fell open, revealing a strange, smaller box with a round glass disc in the middle. Prompto picked it up, staring into the glass, and his finger slipped on a button at the top. A pair of black lids closed over the glass and retreated again.

"It's a camera," Noctis said, standing on his toes.

"I thought you said it was a metaphor."

"It's a camera _and_ a metaphor," Noct said. "You know pictures? That's what you take them with."

"Oh, I think I remember someone in my family having one of these," Prompto said. "Why are you giving me one?"

"Well." Noct stepped forward and flipped the camera around. He pressed a button, and Prompto laughed at the sight of his own nose, magnified to a ridiculous degree. "It's for, you know. Memories." Prompto blinked. "New ones. So when things are... When you remember the shit that happened to you before, you have proof that things are..." Noct's voice trailed off, uncertain. "Better."

Prompto looked down at the camera in his hands, then Noct's upturned, hopeful face, mottled red with the force of his blush. He couldn't seem to place what he was feeling. It was hot and tight, like pain, but somehow _nicer,_ like the tickle of the air before a heavy storm. 

"Hey, don't cry," Noct said, and brushed a knuckle under Prompto's left eye. Prompto took a hitching breath, and only then did he realize that he'd been holding it in the first place. He pressed his free hand to his cheek and frowned when it came away damp.

"It's okay," Prompto said, when Noct keened a little, leaning close. "Thank you. No one's ever really... It's a nice thought, Noct. I love it. The camera _and_ the metaphor."

"Thank the Six," Noct said. He stepped back. "So! You wanna do it?"

"Do... what?" Prompto asked.

"Make some memories." Noct grabbed Prompto by the wrist, and Prompto hopped down from the counter, ribbon spiraling to the floor.

The first one was breakfast. Prompto took shot after shot of Noct, standing under Ignis' watchful and exasperated eye, blackening bacon and dropping eggs on the counter. He took a photo of Ignis at the window, smiling down at his glasses while Noct squawked at another bacon disaster in the background. Then another of Gladio's bicep as the alpha dragged Noct bodily away from the kitchen before he set it on fire, and a close-up of Noct's sulking face in front of a much more passable plate that Ignis made.

Then there was a photo of Noct sneaking up on Gladio, who was sleeping in wolf form in the sun outside. And right after that, a blurry photo of Noct streaking out of frame, nothing more than a black blob of hysterical barking as Gladio surged after him. He took pictures of their feet in the creek, of Noct's back as he fished, silhouetted perfectly against the light. 

There were photos of bees and tomato vines, of dying sunflowers and a rainbow caught in a spray of water. Fifteen photos of his own thumb obscuring the frame. Twenty-three photos of the same sunset from different angles, taken until the darkness swallowed what was left of the shot.

When it was done, Noct and Prompto sat alone on the couch, going through the photos one by one.

"You're pretty good at this already," Noct said, and Prompto rolled his eyes. "No, really. I mean it."

Prompto smiled and pushed Noct's shoulder. "Thanks for this," he said. "I feel like, I don't know. Like looking at all those pictures, it doesn't seem like I'm just some random Niff who barged into your territory by accident. It makes me feel like I belong somewhere."

"You do," Noct said. "That's what I... What I mean to say..."

"I know I'm not pack," Prompto said, and Noct suppressed a muffled whine. "But you guys took me in anyways. And I know it sounds cheesy, but I don't want this to be it." He tapped on the camera. "I want there to be more. I want to stay here, with you."

"Oh my gods," Noct whispered. His scent spiked with distress, and Prompto sat up, suddenly nervous. "Oh my gods, that was perfect."

"What?"

"I don't know what I'm gonna say," Noct muttered. He looked up. "Prompto, I had this whole speech prepared. I worked on it for a week. I asked _Gladio_ for books on poetry! I, and you just, I can't follow that."

"Noct, you are making less than no sense right now," Prompto said, and Noct grabbed both his hands, letting the camera roll onto the couch cushion.

"I want you to be part of the pack," he said, and Prompto's brain went quiet and still.

"What," Prompto said.

"I want you to be pack," Noct said. "With us. With me. I want you to, to eat whenever you want and go wherever you want and be who you are, but I'm also pretty fucking selfish I guess because I _like_ you, Prom, we all like you, and I want you to be who you are with _us._ "

"But I'm..." Ardyn's voice rang through his mind, insidious and cold. _Useless. Wretched excuse for an omega. Worthless drain of my time and resources. Can't even behave yourself for the sake of a pup._ "I'm not the kind of omega people want."

"You're exactly who I want," Noct said. 

Prompto pulled his hands out of Noct's and covered his face. Noct reached for them and gently tugged them down, looking at Prompto's red, tearstained cheeks like he was something beautiful.

"Will you join my pack?" he asked.

Prompto let out something halfway between a sob and a croak, and tried again.

"Yes," he gasped. "Yeah, yeah, Noct, I'll--" He squeaked as Noct pulled him into a tight embrace, laughing wetly into his shirt.

"Oh, gods, I thought I fucked that up," Noct said, and Prompto snorted. They started laughing, weakly at first, then with the hysterical, helpless, bent-over force of full-body wheezing, holding onto each other for balance. Ignis and Gladio raced into the room, and they only laughed harder at the concerned looks on their faces, collapsing on the floor and howling.

"I'm not sure what this means," Ignis said at last, when Noct and Prompto had resorted to sobbing over each other's backs. 

"It means..." Prompto sat up, screwed up his face in a monumental effort at controlling his breathing, said, "yes?" and fell back to the floor, hiccuping. 

They had to wait a while before Prompto and Noct could so much as look at each other without cackling. When they finally calmed down enough to explain things, Ignis and Gladio were at their sides, holding them up and rolling their eyes at Noct's failed attempt at behaving himself like a member of a royal family instead of a screeching howler monkey.

"I have a question, though," Prompto said, leaning back against Ignis' chest. "I'm not gonna, like... Me being pack doesn't mean that I have to..."

Everyone watched him with varying levels of confusion, and Prompto bit his cheek.

"Service anyone?" he said. He pointedly refused to look at Gladio.

"What? No." Noct crawled out of Gladio's lap and took Prompto's hands again. "No, you don't have to do anything you don't want to."

"Even during my heats?" Prompto asked, and caught Gladio's flinch. 

"Yeah, especially then," Noct said. "Your pack can help, but part of _being_ pack is you look out for each other. Which means no one can force you."

Prompto felt breathless again, squeezing Noct's hands. "You're sure?"

"Positive," Gladio said, and Prompto looked up. "Anyone pulls that shit? They're not just out of the pack. They're out of Lucis."

It felt too much like a dream to be real, but Prompto nodded anyways, and Noct pulled him into a hug for a second time.

They held the bonding ceremony outside, on a blanket near the empty lines where Prompto had first opened up to Ignis, where Noct had asked him about flowers, where Gladio had leapt for Ardyn's throat. There were candles set in little iron lanterns that cast shadows on the blanket in the shape of whales and birds, and little velvet boxes on every corner. Prompto sat cross-legged in the middle of the blanket, nerves singing, fingers tapping on his knees. 

Noct came to him first. He went to his knees in front of Prompto and lifted his right hand.

"As your pack leader," Noctis said, slipping a nickel ring on Prompto's forefinger, "I swear to you my unwavering support. I will provide for you, l-love you, hold your bond in my heart so long as you have need of me."

Prompto sat up, meeting Noct halfway as he ducked down to kiss the side of his neck, right over Prompto's scent gland. They nuzzled each other lazily, Prompto tipping back under Noct's touch until they fell with an undignified squeak on the blanket. There was a sigh from the shadows, but Prompto only crooned at Noct happily, holding his head in one hand and tracing his neck with the other. Scenting had never been like this before. There was no biting, no claiming, just soft, gentle touches, breath like laughter on his skin, and Noct pulling back to flash him a smile that made Prompto's chest ache. 

Noct took up a position at Prompto's back as Gladio came forward, and kissed Prompto's hair when Gladio sat down a foot away. He held a necklace in his hands, and his eyes were dark, his voice wary, as he spoke.

"As your packmate," Gladio said, "I will protect you from anyone who tries to treat you as less than you are. I will respect you as an equal, and care for you, and I'll--" He faltered. "I'll become someone worthy of your trust."

He waited for a beat, fingers curling around the thin necklace. Then Prompto nodded, and he slowly, carefully, lifted it over his head.

Gladio didn't scent Prompto first, baring his own neck instead, and didn't say a word when Prompto had to wait for a moment before climbing into his arms. He let Prompto take the lead, bending under his hands, pushing out the same comforting scent he had after his fight with Ardyn, and Prompto's fear gave way just as before.

Ignis was last. He took Prompto's hands in each of his before he even sat, and kissed his knuckles with a slight smile. Then he slipped a bracelet around Prompto's wrist, kissed it for good measure, and looked him in the eyes.

"As your packmate," Ignis said, "I'll ensure that not only are you loved, protected, and cared for, but that every day, you'll be reminded that you are someone who is worthy of care. Entitled to protection. Deserving of love." He tilted his head, and Prompto smiled. "As long as your pack lives, Prompto, you will never be alone."

Prompto laughed when Ignis leaned in to brush tears from his cheeks, and fell into his hold. 

When the last of the candles hissed and spat it's last spark into the air, the new pack was sprawled out on the blanket, four pairs of eyes trained on the bright band of stars in the clear sky. Prompto was the only one who hadn't shifted, lying with Gladio at his right, Noctis at his back, Ignis at his left. The three wolves who had taken him in, had made him family, made him _pack._ Prompto pulled out his camera and took a picture of the stars above them. It came out in a blur of blackness and hazy light, but Prompto knew that he'd keep it forever: A memory of the first time in eight years that Prompto--Prompto _Caelum--_ had been truly, irrevocably happy.


	9. Chapter 9

It didn't take long for Prompto to realize that he didn't really know that much about packs. For him, _pack_ had only ever been synonymous with _machine:_ It operated with the singular, brutal force of an engine, focused only on the needs and desires of the pack leader. That's how it always was. You became pack because the leader wanted you, and you did what you could to be useful to him until you failed. 

But the morning after Prompto became one of the Caelum pack, he woke up knowing that Ignis was hungry.

He sat up in the grey light of pre-dawn, blinking at the dragonflies that darted over the dew-damp grass. He'd moved in the night so that he lay almost on top of Ignis, who had his head on his paws, ears twitching, and Prompto turned to place a hand on his fur.

He couldn't say how he knew it, but he could _feel_ it: A thin strand of hunger weaving through Ignis' scent, which was so much stronger now, more complex. Ignis had an undercurrent to his scent, like roasted almonds and pine, and Prompto took a moment just to breathe it in, curious at the change.

Noctis smelled different, too: He had the sharp, hot scent of pleasure laced in a hint of clear water and jasmine, and Gladio had the sour sting of guilt under the overwhelming scent of woodsmoke and fire. Prompto sat up, lifted his arm to his nose, and tried to scent himself.

Nothing. As usual.

He knew Ignis was about to wake before it happened. Ignis lifted his head and shook out his ears, panting lightly, before nudging Prompto in the chest with his muzzle.

"Hey," Prompto whispered.

Ignis yawned and stretched, and Noct's scent changed to one of mild annoyance as he wriggled out of the way of Ignis' back legs. Ignis shook dew from his fur, shifting so that his human body took form piece by piece, following the spray of water. He sat up on his knees at last, and started to step into his clothes from the night before.

"How are we feeling?" he whispered.

Prompto shrugged. "Weird. I think."

Ignis smiled, and Prompto's hand went to the band on his wrist, feeling the cool metal under his fingers. "It takes us all that way. I imagine it's been some time since you've joined a pack." He held out a hand and helped Prompto to his feet. 

Joining Ardyn's pack had never felt like this, though. Ardyn's scent had never changed. Prompto hadn't been welcomed in with any sort of ceremony, either: He'd just been... handed over. No vows, no gifts, none of the strange, subtle magic of the morning. He was a Besithia, and then he was Ardyn's.

In the kitchen, Ignis started to work his own brand of magic on a few thick slices of bread. Prompto had discovered cinnamon a few days before, and couldn't keep from grinning at the sight of the little brown bottle Ignis took down from the spice rack. Ignis glanced at him sidelong and winked, and Prompto felt a blush creep up his cheeks.

The back door popped open, bringing with it the scent of Gladio and Noctis, mingled together in a mess of irritation and amusement. Prompto stepped aside to get a good look at Gladio, human and bare-chested, holding a slumped black wolf in both arms. Noctis huffed and clenched his eyes shut. 

"Save me a slice, will you, Iggs?" Gladio said, and marched Noct down the hall, Noct's disgruntled growl trailing behind him.

The three of them ate breakfast together, talking quietly so as not to wake Noct. Gladio and Ignis had a million questions: How was Prompto feeling? Were the scents too strong? Any swelling in his scent gland? Back pain? Second thoughts?

"Dude," Prompto said, swallowing a lump of toast. "I'm still kind of figuring this out. It's... does Gladio always smell like fire?"

Gladio raised his brows. "It's different for everyone. Iggy says I smell like--"

"Dark roast," Ignis said, and Gladio rolled his eyes.

"Everyone smells like coffee to Ignis," he said.

"That is patently untrue," Ignis said. "Prompto, for instance, has a floral scent, with..." He paused, and grinned. "Peppermint?"

Prompto preened, and when Gladio shook his head and sighed, he forgot himself long enough to flash him a smile. Gladio's face went slack with an almost childlike hope, and Prompto hurriedly turned back to his toast.

The next week took on a familiar routine: Prompto was always in contact with at least one, if not two, of his packmates throughout the day. Noct said it was important to solidify the bond, but Prompto didn't mind, for the most part. There were times when he couldn't stop himself from shying away from Gladio, but the book they were reading was finally starting to get interesting, so he figured their reading lessons made up for it. 

Noct's heat hit the week after. He spent it with Gladio for the most part, and after listening to ten minutes of it through the wall of his bedroom, Prompto grabbed his blankets and retreated outside. The scent of arousal was fainter there, but he couldn't get the sounds out of his mind, and Ignis found him moving his nest of blankets to his old hiding place in the toolshed. Prompto flinched away when Ignis came close, so the beta just sat there, pushing out his scent, until Prompto's heart stopped hammering and the thought of being touched didn't make him feel like pulling off his skin anymore.

As soon as Noct emerged from his bedroom a day later, Prompto tackled him to the floor.

"Fucking--" Noct stopped as Prompto nuzzled into him, checking him frantically for bruises or breaks. "Prom, it's just a heat. Prom. I'm fine, I..."

Prompto just whined, and Noct attempted to keen back. Gladio stepped out of the bedroom at the sound, half naked and looking like death warmed over, and Prompto held Noct to his chest, turned to Gladio, and _snarled._

Gladio took a long step back. 

"Prompto," Noct said. "Get off me."

Prompto whined again, but let Noct sit up, brows knit together as he looked from Prompto to Gladio. He could smell the distress coming from the alpha even through the heat-scent that clung to Noct's room, and he braced himself for a blow. No alpha would let an omega challenge them, and Prompto had been hurt worse for less.

But Gladio didn't move, and Prompto couldn't taste anger in the air like he could before one of Ardyn's rages. 

He stood, watching Gladio warily, and fled for the door.

Gladio found him a few minutes later, sitting on the dock with his feet dangling in the water. Prompto gripped the edge of the dock hard, wondering if he should run, or shift, or beg, but Gladio just sat next to him, his smoky scent mingling with that odd alpha's attempt at calm.

"You ever heard of the Peacekeepers?" Gladio asked. Prompto didn't answer. "They've been around for centuries. Usually, the ruling omega's in charge--Right now it's the queen in command. They're like the Crownsguard, but they deal with domestic pack issues, like abuse or forced bonding. Or rape."

Gladio propped his forearms on his knees. "You see them in town sometimes. They have these uniforms with red sashes, and they carry truncheons with silver bands in 'em." Prompto could see him trying to catch his gaze out of the corner of his eye. "They're all omegas. It's a point of pride, becoming a Peacekeeper. They're more respected than the Crownsguard out here."

Prompto tried to imagine an omega taking a club to a snarling alpha, and came up empty. "We could've used them in Niflheim," he said. 

"Yeah, I bet." Gladio was silent for another long minute. "You didn't spend your heats alone, did you?"

"No."

Gladio kicked at the water, and Prompto watched the drops scatter over the creek. "I love Noct," Gladio said. "I've loved him for years. I'd never forgive myself if I hurt him. But if I did, you'd have every right to take me down."

That startled a bitter laugh out of Prompto. "Omegas don't fight alphas."

"Sure they do. What'd I just say?" Gladio turned to face Prompto, holding up his hands. "Maybe you should give it a try."

"You're kidding."

"Nah. Go on, hit me."

Prompto smacked him lightly on the chest, then reared back. Gladio gave him a long, slow look. "Let's try that again."

Prompto hit him a second time, but it was like punching a wet sack of cement, and his hand stung. Gladio took his hand and shaped it into a fist. 

"Yeah," he said. "Now try and--" He ducked as Prompto swung, and came up grinning. "Nice! Try it again."

Prompto lunged forward, and Gladio fell into the creek to avoid him. "Where's that snarl from before, Prompto?"

He yelped as Prompto jumped, growling, and sent them both toppling into the creek. They rolled, and Prompto came out on top, holding Gladio down so that only his head and shoulders rose above the rushing water.

"Look at that," Gladio said, as Prompto, panting for breath, broke into a helpless grin. "I knew you had it in you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It won't be all sunshine and butterflies for long, of course, but enjoy the fluff for now! :)


	10. Chapter 10

The first time Prompto kissed Noctis, it was the last warm day of fall. The construction crew from the Citadel had come and gone, leaving behind a small one-room building two miles into their territory, and Noct and Prompto were passing through it, flipping on lights and turning the tap on the sink. It was bare, with thick carpet for the comfort of weary paws, but the windows were made of frosted glass and there was a small fireplace in one side. They'd spent the better part of the afternoon gathering up sticks and leaf litter to dump in the grate, and Noct killed four matches before Prompto took over and coaxed the fire to life.

They lay on the floor of the empty room, the soles of their feet going tight with the heat of the fire.

"What do you think this should be?" Noct asked, after a while. "I mean, since you're pack now, I don't see you wanting to live here."

"Maybe an omega house," Prompto said. He kicked Noct in the shin. "When we need time away, we can go here and talk shit about everyone else."

"Or a clubhouse," Noct said. "Like for the kids. When we have them." He flushed pink. "I... Not that... I mean, if we want them. We're probably too young for kids right now."

Prompto stared at the ceiling. _Too young,_ Noct said. Prompto wondered how old his first pup would have been, if they'd lived. Three, maybe. Old enough to talk. Old enough to help Prompto pick squashes in the garden, or laugh at Ignis' terrible puns, or ride on Gladio's shoulders. 

"Yeah," he said. "Yeah, it'd be nice to have kids."

"Or we can set up those big cushions, right?" Noct said, rolling on his side to face Prompto. "And we can make it a nest, sort of. Or a bed. A giant bed. With heated blankets, and a mini fridge--"

"Oh my gods, you giant loser." Prompto tried to roll away, but Noct grabbed him by the shoulder, stopping him. They stared at each other, and the fire hissed and spat against the bricks. 

"Whatever it is, it's yours," Noct said. Prompto shoved his hands in Noct's face, and the two of them went rolling on the carpet, wrestling in a tangle of legs and bony knees and elbows. Then, just as Noct was about to wrap him in a messy headlock, Prompto grabbed Noct's face in both hands and kissed him.

It was a sloppy kiss, all teeth and uncertainty, but Noct smiled into it all the same. 

"Yeah," he said, and kissed Prompto back, a quick peck on the nose. "I like you, too."

"Nerd," Prompto said, fondly. Noct kissed his cheek, and Prompto lovingly kissed him back, half closed his eyes, and wrapped Noct in a perfect chokehold.

\----------

Prompto's first heat as a member of the pack came almost exactly on the day outlined in red on Ignis' calendar. He woke up to find Ignis and Noctis at his door, bearing armfuls of Gladio's clothes and a giant bag from one of the stores in town.

"Gladio's gonna stay out of it for this one," Noct said, as Prompto lunged for one of the alpha's hoodies. He put it on immediately, practically drowning in its folds, and almost walked out the door to find him before Ignis gently pushed him back.

"No, Prom," he said. "You said no, before."

"But I'm not saying no _now,_ " Prompto whined. He sat dejectedly in the middle of his bed as Ignis and Noct pulled out a hot water bottle, scent diffusers, a blanket from Gladio's bed, and an entire tray of spiced chocolates. Ignis brushed Prompto's hair back in farewell before going off to check on Gladio, and Noct picked out one of the chocolates.

"Okay, Prom," he said. "Chocolate first. Then we're gonna play king's knight, which is five times better than an alpha, anyways."

Prompto, already sinking into the numbing fog of his heat, whined. He doubted Noct was telling the truth, but when he opened his mouth to tell him that, Noct shoved in the chocolate instead.

"Grmfm hrmm!" Prompto protested.

"Yeah, I know," Noct said, scooting next to Prompto and placing the hot water bottle in his lap. "But that's what we've got, buddy."

He came out of the fog at last when Noct dragged him into the bathroom, where they sank into a scented bath so large that two wolves could curl up in it with room to spare. The chocolate was gone, used as bribes when Prompto started to go for the door, but Prompto was pretty sure he didn't need it anymore. He kicked one of Noct's glittery bath bombs across the tub and lay over one of the jets, letting it lift him up.

"Never thought heats could feel good before," he told Noct, lifting one foot to watch his leg sparkle in the light. Noct gave him a funny look at that, but he didn't say anything, just kneaded shampoo in Prompto's hair and turned on the jets again when they sputtered out.

Gladio was in the living room with Ignis, stripped down to his boxers and drinking a cup of tea, when Prompto came in with the clothes he hadn't permanently stolen. Gladio looked at the notably diminished pile with suspicion, but thanked Prompto anyways. His voice was a little off, like he was trying not to yawn, and Prompto looked to Ignis, who had a hand over his mouth.

"What?" he asked. Then he turned, and saw Noctis padding down the hall, a large black wolf with silky fur covered in glitter. He squawked.

"Ignis," he whispered, and Ignis appeared at his shoulder, dropping his camera in his hand with a grin. Prompto ran after Noct, leaving a trail of glitter in his wake, and Ignis sighed.

"There go the omegas of pack Caelum," he said dryly, as Noct bounced around Prompto in the kitchen. 

"Oh, you love them," Gladio said, laughing to himself. When Ignis didn't respond, he looked up, and saw the high spots of color on Ignis' cheeks as he watched Noct and Prompto wrestle for the camera.

"Oh," Gladio said, in a much different voice. 

Noct tripped over a chair, Prompto went crashing into a cabinet, and an entire rack of baking trays went clattering to the ground as Ignis, watching it all with a hand to his mouth, realized that Gladio was right.

\----------

The first time Prompto had a real fighting lesson, snow had blocked the roads leading to and from the capital. Wolf tracks still ran through the hills of Lucis and along the borders of the main territories, but Cor Leonis, Marshal of the Crownsguard and beta to the king, said that it wouldn't be much good.

"My bike is a crown vehicle," he said, sitting in Noct's favorite chair as snow obscured the world outside. "I can't abandon it."

"You can definitely stay if you want, Uncle Cor," Noct said, from where he was desperately trying to hide a month's worth of messes in the hallway. Cor seemed to have that effect on everyone: Even Ignis stood up straight and called him Sir. Prompto, meanwhile, was caught between listening to the leather-clad beta and watching the lawn fill with snow. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been out in the snow for fun, with the promise of a warm cup of tea and a pack to come back to. Cor caught him sighing and glanced at him sidelong.

"Well, I'm here to see how your new packmate is doing in any case," Cor said. "I'll be able to give the king and Clarus a thorough report this way."

"Dad?" Gladio asked. Prompto caught a ghost of unease in Gladio's scent, and tore his eyes away from the snow outside. Cor shrugged.

"He wants to make sure, uh..." Cor frowned. "Prompto, right?"

"Yeah," Prompto said. 

"He wants me to confirm whether he's a Niff spy." The others bristled, Gladio most of all, almost shifting in their dismay and outrage, but Cor just turned to Prompto. "So. Are you?"

"...No?" Prompto said.

"Good. That's easy enough," Cor said. "It's alright if I talk to the kid for a minute?"

It wasn't, Prompto could tell. The whole pack followed them outside, but not before Ignis insisted that they all either shift or throw on thick sweaters and coats. Prompto wanted to shift, but he knew Cor probably had questions, so he settled for a mustard-yellow sweater with chocobo feathers inked on the back. 

"I heard you had an incident with Ardyn Izunia," Cor said, when he and Prompto were as alone as they could be. "How long did he hold you hostage?"

"He didn't," Prompto said. "I used to be his omega, that's all."

Cor gave him a steady look. There wasn't any pity there, just a grim confidence, and Prompto saw something hard flash over Cor's eyes. Something familiar. 

"Eight years," Prompto said. Cor nodded.

"I've had the misfortune of running into Ardyn more than once," Cor said. "This was when he was just some punk wolf clawing his way to the top. Didn't care who he used as a ladder to get there." Cor tilted his neck, and Prompto saw a jagged, ugly scar just below his collar. "I was... Thirteen, I think, when he gave me that. I gave him one on the thigh. Nearly killed him."

"I've seen that one!" Prompto said, unthinking. Again, Cor gave him that steady look, and Prompto struggled to find something else to say. "Were you fighting him, or..."

"Fought in a skirmish on the border," Cor said, and for the first time since he appeared at the front door, covered in snow and exhaust, he smiled. "Lied about my age to sign up. I don't care to imagine what it'd be like to have to look at Ardyn for more than a few minutes, though. You're tough, kid."

It struck Prompto, then, what had seemed so familiar about Cor. He reminded Prompto of Aranea. The same no-nonsense tone, the offer of comfort without pity, the look of pain that flickered over his face for the briefest moment, like a shadow. Calling him _kid._ Prompto held back a thick lump in his throat, thinking of the beta he'd left behind, the first friend he'd ever made.

"I'm not that tough," Prompto said. "I couldn't even escape on my own."

"If you say so," Cor said. "But if you want, I can give you some tips. Just in case you need to fight again."

And so Prompto found himself standing in the empty vegetable garden, bracing his feet the way Cor had taught him, while an expressionless beta charged him from behind. He turned too late, and went crashing into the snow.

From where he sat by the shed, Gladio got up with the faintest rumble of a growl. Ignis pushed into his side, and Noct got up, padding towards Prompto.

"One more time!" Prompto said, spitting out snow. "I think I got it!"

Cor graced him with another rare smile. "Remember to use your ears _and_ your nose this time, kid," he said, and charged again. Prompto twisted as he passed, grabbed his wrist and arm, and swung Cor onto his back. Noct applauded.

The next day, Cor said he was going to teach Prompto how to hold his ground against an intimidating opponent.

"You're shifting for this one," Noct whispered, as Prompto pulled off his Kenny Crow sweater, "so remember, don't laugh."

"Why would I laugh?" Prompto asked. Ignis and Noct exchanged looks, and Gladio leaned in to whisper.

"Stumpy little legs," he said, and Cor's head whipped around. Gladio straightened like a soldier.

"What was that?" Cor asked.

"Nothing, sir! Sorry, sir!" Gladio backed up a step and shifted, slinking behind Ignis and Noct. Prompto covered his mouth to hide a laugh, and turned in time to see Cor shift into what had to be the smallest wolf in Eos. 

He was just over two feet tall, with sandy fur and the same grim, disapproving expression he'd worn before. Prompto suddenly realized why Cor didn't want to run through the snow back to the capital. He shifted as well, not trusting himself to keep a straight face with Gladio sulking behind him, and bounced through the snow to Cor.

\-------

Prompto went on his first hunt in the spring. He took down a total of zero rabbits, foxes, deer or birds, but he did learn that the purple vines mixed in with the kudzu at the edge of their territory were probably toxic. He spent a good week walking around with a rash, forcing himself not to scratch while Noct suppressed laughter every time he left his room.

Gladio broke out the science fiction when Prompto had a bout of flu, and Prompto learned that he had a bad habit of crying over fictional characters when he was sick. Ignis came to him once, all concern, when Prompto was rubbing his eyes on his hands while Gladio skimmed through the book frantically.

"I can't believe Molgraf died!" Prompto wailed, and Ignis stopped in his tracks.

"It's okay, Prom," Gladio said. "He comes back in the second book."

Even Gladio had to admit that he deserved a pillow to the face for _that_ one.

Prompto's first kiss with Ignis happened easy as breathing, a peck on the lips one morning while Ignis waited for his coffee to brew. Prompto liked to think he was getting better at kissing after months of practice with Noct, but with Ignis it was like hunger, something consuming and curious and new. He backed Ignis right into the fridge before they realized what they were doing, and Ignis pulled away, panting a little.

"Well," he said.

"Well," said Prompto, smiling. He kissed him one more time, just to know that he could, and hooked his fingers in Ignis' suspenders. "So what's for breakfast?"

\-------

The next time Prompto went to the Citadel, it had been nearly two years since he'd first set foot in the capital of Lucis. Prompto didn't balk at the people lining the walls of the entrance this time, and the travel bag he wore was full of his own clothing, including a new suit made in the Citadel itself. Baths with Noct meant that his fur shone with a gloss that could have matched the prince if Prompto cared enough to brush every day, and he only stuck to Ignis' side when the king and queen greeted them at the dais. Cor was there, too, standing at Clarus' side, as well as a young girl who raced down the stairs to fling herself around Gladio's neck. 

"Gladdy!" She shouted, her voice echoing off the vaulted roof. "That's two birthdays you missed! I'm not letting you go _this_ time."

Gladio looked back at Noct and whined, but Noct just bared his teeth in a laugh, trotting off towards the changing rooms. 

When they reached the second floor ballroom, changed and dressed in their new suits, Prompto wasn't too sure about his newfound confidence. The queen had summoned them, insisting that Noct at least celebrate a belated birthday at home, but Prompto felt that Ignis had underestimated just what counted as a "private affair." There were more people in the ballroom than Prompto had seen in Ardyn's pack, all of them dressed to the nines and talking in low, well-bred tones that made the ballroom echo like a shallow wave on the rocks. Prompto gratefully grabbed a glass of something clear as water and downed it, wincing at the bitter aftertaste. 

"Easy, Prom," Noct murmured, rubbing the back of Prompto's neck. "You'll be fine. I have to talk to Mom or she'll have my head on a spike tomorrow, but I'll be right back."

"That's fine." Iris Amicitia, the girl who had accosted Gladio in the hall, detached herself from his arm and latched onto Prompto instead. "I've been wanting to talk to the guy my brother's gone all gooey for, anyways."

"Iris," Gladio said, in a strangled sort of whine. Iris grinned.

"Come on, sunshine," she said to Prompto. "Let's have some fun."

Prompto glanced back at the others as Iris dragged him off, but he was already suspecting that out of all the considerably formidable Amicitias, Iris was the one _no one_ could fight off.

He grabbed two more tall, thin glasses of not-water on their way across the ballroom.

"It's okay that I call you sunshine, right?" Iris asked, swinging his arm as they walked. "I know that's Gladdy's nickname for you, but as soon as I saw you, I knew he was right."

"Gladio doesn't call me that," Prompto said. Iris screwed up her face in confusion.

"You sure?" she said. "It's all over his letters. Sunshine this, blondie that, _his eyes are like a dark sea,_ that whole thing."

They stopped under a low chandelier, which cast spots of light all over the gold tiles of the floor. "My eyes are what?" Prompto asked.

"Uh." For the first time, Iris' smile faded. "Oh. _Oh._ Don't tell him I said anything, okay?"

Prompto nodded helplessly, and Iris, her scent radiating distress, towed him over to a small crowd of people. One of them was Luna, dressed in white and black with a sheer overgown. Next to her was an alpha with dark hair braided down the side, and two wolves, one grey, one white, who stood together and watched Prompto curiously. 

"This is Princess Lunafreya," Iris said, bouncing on her heels. "You guys met already. This guy is Nyx, he's been teaching me how to fight--"

"More like creating a monster," Nyx said, and Iris scrunched up her nose. He nodded at Prompto, who nodded back, stepping just a few inches closer to Luna. 

"And this is Umbra, and this is Pryna. They're wolves full-time," Iris said. Prompto turned to the two wolves, who wagged their tails and stepped forward to sniff his suit. "Everyone, this is Prompto. I thought I'd introduce him since Noct's probably hiding under the buffet table again."

Prompto looked to the long, curtained buffet, and thought he could understand the appeal. 

"I'm so glad you've joined the family," Luna said. "How is Noctis? He hardly writes."

"He fishes a lot," Prompto said, and Nyx smirked. He wasn't sure he liked that. "And... he's always reading reports from the Citadel, and he meets with the mayor of the town nearby sometimes, since we're close to the border."

Luna smiled, lines deepening around her mouth. "Yes, but how is he? I know it worried him, running his own pack. How do you like it there?"

"It's the best pack I've ever been in," Prompto said. "He's... he's great. I don't think I've met anyone like him before."

"No one has," Luna said, and leaned down to pet Umbra behind the ears. "Our Noctis is one of a kind."

Someone came by with another tray of drinks, and everyone except Iris toasted to the royal family. Prompto was starting to get the hang of the not-water: It didn't even taste bitter anymore.

"Do you wanna dance?" Iris asked. "Ignis promised me a go, but I have time if you want."

"I think I..." Prompto blinked as the lights of the ballroom blurred and swam. "I'm gonna find Noct."

"If you're sure," Iris said. Luna smiled again, and Prompto tottered off towards the buffet table. Iris had said something about Noct and the buffet, right? Except... The table kept moving, too. Prompto grabbed another glass--how many _were_ there in this place?--and finally found his footing when a tall older man with white-blond hair intercepted him.

"You've been going in circles," the man said. He smelled like an alpha, but Prompto wasn't entirely sure if he was one. Maybe he'd just been dancing with an alpha, or he was, was very good friends with one, or he--

"Careful," the man said. His eyes were strange. One green, one blue. It would probably be rude to mention it, though. 

"Your eyes are strange," Prompto said. He reached for another passing tray, and the man gently knocked his arm aside.

"Thank you," the man said, and placed a hand on the small of his back. Okay. That was wrong. That was definitely wrong. Prompto opened his mouth to tell the man this, but he was already taking his hand away.

"You're my brother's mate, are you not?" the man asked. 

"I don't know your brother," Prompto said, and the man sighed. It was the same sort of sigh Noct made, expressive and dramatic, shoulders slumping and eyes rolling. "Wait. Wait. Hold on."

"While you're figuring this out," the man said, taking Prompto's arm, "let's bring you to your pack, shall we?"

"Who's we?"

"The royal one."

Prompto floated across the ballroom, leaning heavily on the man's arm, and kept going when the man stopped, staggering out of his hands. Two large, silk-clad arms caught him, and Prompto almost wept at the familiar scent of one of his pack.

"Oh, boy," said Gladio, somewhere over Prompto's head.

"You should keep a better eye on your packmate, brother," said the man.

"I was talking to Mom!" that was Noct. Why was the man calling Noct his brother? The only brother Noct had was Ravus, the crown...

The crown prince.

"Oh, shit," Prompto said, a little too loud. 

"Indeed," said Ravus. He clapped Noct on the shoulder and whirled off in a puff of smoke. Or he just disappeared behind a group of people with little spinach tarts, which was more likely, but not as interesting.

"Let's get you to bed," Gladio said, still holding Prompto by the shoulders. "Noct, you think you can find Ignis and sneak some food for him?"

"Can I?" Noct said. "Gladio, how long have you known me?"

Gladio laughed. "Fine. Brat."

"Later, dork."

Prompto didn't mind being walked this time, especially since they were heading out of the ballroom and into a dim, grey hallway. He leaned against Gladio, blinking hard, as Gladio carefully guided him past giant paintings and marble pillars.

"Gladio," Prompto said. There was something important he needed to tell Gladio. Something he couldn't forget. "Gladio. Gladio. Gladio."

"Yeah, Prom, that's me."

"Why don't you call me Sunshine?"

Gladio groaned. "Fucking Iris."

That wasn't an answer. "That was. S'not an answer. You're reflecting."

"That's deflecting, Prom."

"You're worse than a mirror, Glaaaadio." Prompto grabbed his arm, tears pricking at his eyes. "I can't see your tattoos anymore. Why are you hiding your tattoos?"

"Oh, gods," Gladio said. "Don't cry, Prom, they're still there."

"But how do I _know?_ " Prompto whispered.

Gladio sighed and rolled up a sleeve, and Prompto let out a gusty breath. That was better. Now he knew he was with Gladio, and not some pretender who called him sunshine behind his back.

Which reminded him.

"I want you to call me sunshine to my front," Prompto said, as Gladio manhandled him into a soft room full of black drapes. 

"I... have no idea what to say to that," Gladio said. Prompto squeaked as his legs went out from under him, and he was plopped down on a large bed. He blinked at Gladio owlishly.

"Are you sure you're an alpha?" he asked. Gladio's mouth fell open, and Prompto reached up to close it again. His hand slipped, and he accidentally jabbed Gladio in the eye. "It's just that alphas are. Alphas are. Alphas don't do what you do."

"Yeah?" Gladio asked, in a funny, small voice.

"Mmm. They're the ones who..." Prompto waved his hand. "Punish you if you're bad. Or if they don't like you. Or if you're there. That's their job."

"Prom, we've talked about this."

"Shh. Shh. Shhhhhh." Prompto placed a finger on Gladio's cheek. "No. Listen. You got it wrong. The only. The only one who ever protected me from Ardyn before you was a beta. Betas are the... the protectors. They make sure you're safe. Ara always made me feel safe."

"Ara?"

"And you do, too, sometimes," Prompto said. "So maybe you aren't. Aren't an alpha. Maybe you're just a beta who got confused."

Gladio sat down on the edge of the bed. He was being quiet again, which wasn't right. Prompto kind of liked his voice. Low. Rumbling. Like a growl, but human, and a little smoother. He wanted to hear him.

"Gladio," Prompto said. "Gladio? Gladio, hey. Hey."

Gladio leaned over him, and held Prompto's cheek in one large hand. His eyes were wet; Prompto touched his cheeks, trying to push the tears back, but they kept coming. His hand slipped over Gladio's mouth, and he felt lips move against his palm.

"Hey, sunshine."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time: Prompto makes a discovery about sand.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning! The smut happens here, which is why I upped the rating of the fic. After the first line break, there's also a part where Prompto reflects on his past, which involved CSA. There won't be any scenes depicting that abuse. There's just the aftermath and implications, but it can still be distressing, so skip ahead to the part where Prompto has a baby shower if that's something you can't handle.

Admittedly, Prompto probably should have waited to make his announcement when Gladio _wasn't_ breaking in his second cup of noodles.

"I'm really sorry," he said, as Gladio coughed over the kitchen sink, eyes watering with the sting of choking down a handful of noodles and scalding broth all at once. "Didn't think you'd take it like that, big guy."

"Prom." Gladio's voice was scraped raw. "You sat down in a chocobo hoodie like you just came back from baking brownies for the Junior Omega Peacekeepers club, and said you wanted to have _sex._ In that voice you have."

"What, my normal one?" Prompto smacked Gladio on the back, and the alpha wheezed a little. "And I'm not junior anything, I'm eighteen. Also, heads up? You gave me the chocobo hoodie."

"Just don't wear it during, that's all I ask," Gladio moaned, blotting water from his face with a dish towel. 

"No promises."

Gladio turned around, which was an impressive feat with Prompto standing as close as he dared, and ran a thumb over his chin. "You sure about this?" he asked.

Prompto nodded. He'd thought about it for months, mulling it over as he listened to Gladio and Noctis during Noct's heats, as Noct and Ignis helped him through his, on evenings when he and Noct lay tangled up together and Gladio or Ignis would come in to lay at their sides. He thought of it after Ignis would kneel at his feet and whisper endearments to the stretch marks on his thighs, when Noct walked his fingers down the freckles on his back. He could sense Gladio's absence like a physical weight in the room, even though part of him still cringed at the scent of an alpha. 

"I want to try," Prompto said.

They started outside, near the upturned earth of what would one day be a second flower garden, where the wind colored Gladio's scent with tree bark and new growth. Prompto kissed him there, laughing when Gladio's hands hovered over his back. He kissed him through the first stirrings of arousal, and it wasn't until the wind turned that Prompto stiffened and pulled away.

"Tomorrow," he said, and Gladio's eyes tightened at the corners.

"Sure," he said, in a breathless tone. "Tomorrow."

 _Tomorrow_ brought with it Prompto's favorite spiced hot chocolate, borne in Gladio's hands just outside a small stone building at the edge of town. Prompto left on the heels of a crowd of off-duty omega peacekeepers, who ran self-defense classes twice a month in what used to be an old pottery shed. Cor had signed Prompto up half a year before, and the sight of the legendary Crownsguard beta walking at his side that first day had made Prompto a curiosity among the peacekeepers. A number of them jostled Prompto and winked at Gladio, and the district captain tweaked Prompto on the ear. She wolf whistled when Prompto stood up on his toes to kiss Gladio on the cheek, and Prompto flashed her a rude gesture behind his back.

"How'd it go today?" Gladio asked, as they walked together down the road towards the house. He sneezed as a gust of pollen hit him head-on, and Prompto, trained by Ignis to prepare for Gladio's hay fever, whipped out a tissue and kept walking.

"The captain taught us how to break someone's neck with our thighs," he said, and took a sip of his chocolate. "Hypothetically."

"Uh huh," Gladio said. "So. Hypothetically. You could do that now?"

"I guess," Prompto said. He grinned at Gladio. "Why, you looking for a demonstration?"

Four minutes later, Prompto was panting in the dust of the road, legs locked over Gladio's enormous shoulders, bracing himself on his elbow. It was an awkward position, thanks to Gladio being slippery as a fish when he wanted to, and Gladio's breath heated the cloth of Prompto's pants as he tested Prompto's give. Another spike of warmth bloomed in Prompto's skin as Gladio tried to twist out of the way, and his nose brushed against Prompto's zipper.

"Uh," Prompto said, eloquently. "So. Uh. That's how. That's how we do it."

"Still alive down here," Gladio said. He grunted as Prompto wriggled, sitting up so that he straddled Gladio's neck. His face felt impossibly hot, and when Gladio grinned up at him from between his legs, Prompto had the sudden urge to--

"Let's go home," Prompto said, and Gladio's grin widened.

They made it indoors, at least. But then Prompto dropped his thermos in the umbrella vase, Gladio knocked over a package from Luna, and they staggered together into the drawing room off the side of the foyer, where Prompto pushed Gladio to the floor.

"Stay," he said, when Gladio tried to sit up. He fumbled with the buttons of his pants. "I don't think I'll be able to keep going if we stop."

"Sunshine," Gladio said, breath hitching as Prompto stepped out of his pants. "I want you to want this."

"I do," Prompto said, and kicked his boxers to the side. He stepped over Gladio's shoulders again, looking down at his open mouthed, glassy-eyed face, and fell to his knees.

Gladio's hands cupped his ass, and Prompto closed his eyes to the heat of his fingers, only to open wide a second later when Gladio's hot tongue teased the folds of his cunt.

Prompto was always more sensitive there, even with his small, flushed cock standing to attention, and he whimpered as Gladio's tongue traced him in an expert pattern. Gods, for an alpha, Gladio seemed more than intimately familiar with how to work an omega's body. He urged Prompto to sink lower, moaned as Prompto's hips jerked, his red little cock thrusting up Gladio's face, and the scrape of his stubble was a revelation on Prompto's sensitive skin. He let out a moan that sounded halfway like a sob, and flung his head back at the sound of footsteps behind him.

"Prompto?" Ignis' voice rose dangerously high, and Prompto looked over his shoulder to see him blushing furiously, head turned to the hall. "Ah. I see. Perhaps you should..."

"It's fff--" Prompto moaned outright, leaning forward to brace his hands on the floor as Gladio took his entire length into his mouth. "I'm, Iggy, I'm fi-hine how the _fuck_ do you do that, dude?" 

Gladio pushed Prompto a few inches up and gasped for breath. "Practice," he rasped.

Ignis made to close the door, but Prompto shook his head. "C'mere?" he asked. "Please?"

Ignis knelt behind Gladio's head and stroked Prompto's hair as Gladio brought him through the shuddering throes of pleasure and out the other side, into a boneless languor that made Prompto keen and whine and press soft, sloppy kisses down Ignis' jaw.

"Wow," Prompto said, slipping to the floor between them as Gladio rolled him off. "Okay. Wow."

Gladio chuckled, and Ignis shot him a stern look. "There will be no living with him now," Ignis told Prompto. "His ego doesn't necessarily need stroking."

"Something does," Prompto whispered, and Ignis covered his face as Prompto raised a hand to bump fists with Gladio.

Still, when the time for Prompto's next heat came, he showed up at Gladio's door with Noct's hand clenched tight in his, and Ignis' reassuring scent pushing at his back.

Gladio didn't even touch him at first. He just sat against the wall while Prompto leaned on his chest, reading aloud from their latest novel while Ignis and Noct set up Prompto's usual comfort items from former heats. Then, when Prompto was keening and nuzzling into his chest, Gladio set the book aside and kissed him, slow and reverent, letting Prompto explore his body. Noct rocked the mattress in an attempt to squeeze in to Prompto's side, and Prompto was momentarily distracted by Noct's hands in his hair, his hot, soft mouth pressed to his scent gland.

"Love you, Prom," Noct whispered, and Prompto shuddered, holding him close with one arm as he straddled Gladio's waist. Gladio pushed Prompto's free hand away when he reached for Gladio's boxers, and pulled him into a kiss.

"Let Noct work you open," Gladio murmured in his ear, and Prompto gasped at the familiar touch of Noct's mouth beneath him. He must have been lying right over Gladio's cock, but if Gladio was uncomfortable, he didn't show it. He held and kissed Prompto through the first orgasm of his heat, and when Noct slid out from under him, mouth a mess with his efforts, Prompto tugged at Gladio's hair and ground down on the bulge of his cock.

"I know," Gladio said, kissing him again as Prompto whispered formless nonsense into his collarbone. He held Prompto up with one arm while Noct tugged down Gladio's boxers and rolled a condom down his cock. Prompto looked down and bit his lips, choking back a whine.

But then Ignis was there, a hand on his cheek, another on his back, his scent breaking through the haze of Prompto's heat as Gladio lined him up. It took the edge off the desperate hunger in Prompto's mind, gave him the patience to wait while Gladio slowly, _slowly,_ lowered Prompto onto his cock.

"Six," Noct said, and kissed the back of Prompto's neck. Prompto felt another pair of hands on him, bracing his thighs, and let them guide the movement of his legs, rubbing soothing circles when Prompto's heat pushed him to the limit. Prompto felt adrift in a warm sea, pleasure rising and falling like the swell of a wave but never breaking, and it wasn't until Gladio started to move, rocking into him, that Prompto felt the first press of a knot against his skin.

He'd expected it to hurt. It always hurt, even when alphas went slow, but in this room, surrounded by his pack, Prompto only felt the tight, hot pleasure of Gladio filling him at last, locking them together with a kiss to Prompto's slack mouth.

The fog cleared slowly, but there was none of the jittery, wide-awake panic Prompto felt when he'd been knotted before. Just the aftershocks of bliss, the lazy touch of Noct's hands on his thighs, Ignis' lips on his temple. He smiled and braced his hands on Gladio's shoulders.

"You okay?" Gladio asked. Prompto nodded and draped his arms around Gladio's neck, leaning down for yet another shy, perfect kiss.

\---------

Frost was threatening the sylleblossoms at the edge of the road when Prompto, breaking away from the omegas in his self defense class, was stopped by a hand on his arm. It was the captain, Monica, dark hair swinging in her eyes in the breeze. She squeezed Prompto's arm and smiled.

"I just wanted to say congrats, Prompto," she said. Prompto smiled uncertainly. "It's nice for the omegas who come in to see you around. Having a member of the royal pack here, it changes things. Makes them try harder."

Prompto was lost. This was the most Monica had ever said to him, even when Prompto tried to wheedle her into letting Noct cat-sit for her. "I don't know about that."

"It's true. But anyways, when you're ready to share the news, let us know. Some of the boys and I threw a shower for Dustin's daughter last year." Her lips twitched, which was as good as a laugh in her regard, and retreated for the diner.

A shower? Prompto hadn't heard the word used like that before. And what news? He didn't have any news, did he? Nothing much had changed. Sure, he'd helped Noct see Gladio through his rut last month--or half a day of it, before Gladio bent Noct in half and Prompto tapped out--but he doubted people would pick up on that. And he'd been feeling a little off lately, but that wasn't anything worth showering over.

Whatever that meant.

Noct met him by the market, and they bought some bags of Ebony for Ignis before heading back. The smell of the coffee flooded Prompto's senses, making his stomach churn, and he handed the bags to Noct instead.

It was another week before Prompto realized what was happening.

He'd felt this before, too many times, the subtle shift in his scent that even he could pick up on, regardless of the fact that his own scent was barely noticeable to himself. He lay awake in bed, hands pressed to his belly, the taste of fear like copper on his tongue.

The first time Prompto lost a pup, he was thirteen. He'd made it two months before Ardyn decided that a spot of wine on the tablecloth was an unforgivable offense, and Aranea found him, after, stood over him as he lay in the shadow of her wolf form and wept. He didn't know what he was crying for, that first time. For himself? For the pup? For his mother, the only one who ever went for Ardyn's throat, running now under the starlit sky of the fields of the dead? He called for her, he knew, his voice thin and high, but if her ghost heard him, she couldn't answer. It was just him and Aranea: If Prompto had half his mother's strength, maybe he could run. Maybe he could've saved the pup.

Maybe next time, he would.

Lying next to Noct in Noct's massive, decadent excuse for a bed, Prompto shivered and climbed out. A small part of Prompto's mind told him he was being irrational, but Prompto was thinking of Ardyn, of Ardyn's alphas, of every night he shuddered on the floor and swore he'd do better next time. 

He packed a small travel bag with as many clothes as he could fit, and shoved it under the barely used bed in his private room. He could run to Monica, maybe. She'd understand. Or he could keep going and make for Besithia like he'd planned in the first place, hope that his dad wouldn't just give him back to Ardyn. Or he could go to his and Noct's clubhouse for a few days, just to get the others used to his absence.

His fingers traced the bumps of the mating marks on his neck. Ardyn's was already gone, worn down by the years and overtaken by Gladio's, but Prompto could feel it like a second heartbeat against his hand. 

An hour later, as Prompto was preparing for one of the last breakfasts he'd have with his pack, Gladio was the first to detect the change in Prompto's scent. It ended with Gladio on his knees on the kitchen floor, neck bared as Prompto tried not to hyperventilate against the sink. He hadn't meant to say anything, but when Noct came to him, all concern and righteous anger on his behalf, it came spilling out. All of it. Everything that Prompto had only ever hinted at before, tumbling from his lips like a curse. 

And then Gladio was holding him, and the small voice of reason came back, winding through the fear to remind him that this time, this time, it would finally be different. This time, he wouldn't have to run.

Prompto was going to have a _baby_.

The peacekeepers and self defense trainees threw Prompto a baby shower a few weeks later. The pack came with him, puzzling over things like _breast cups_ for catching excess milk ("They don't just... leak all the time?" Noct had asked, in mild horror) and pads and swaddling blankets. The royal family sent their gifts with Cor, who grumbled as he unloaded cribs, strollers, bouncy chairs, and a playpen so large that it had to be moved to the clubhouse.

While Prompto's room slowly turned into a nursery, Prompto learned that none of his past attempts had prepared him for a proper pregnancy. He couldn't eat any of his favorite foods anymore, and had to be as far from the kitchen as possible when Ignis started to cook. Smells were stronger. He couldn't sleep right, and eventually insisted that Gladio sleep with him and Noct, where he subjected the alpha to his new brand of rolling and flailing his limbs throughout the night. When that didn't work, either, Prompto appeared in Ignis' room without warning and climbed into bed with him. Ignis laughed softly and kissed his forehead, and held him through one of the first restful nights in weeks.

But the cravings. The cravings were killer.

The worst happened when Gladio and Prompto were outside, trying to work their way through a book neither of them really cared for. Prompto was running his hand over the bare patch of sand at his side, luxuriating in the fine grains sliding against his skin. It felt like rough flour, or sifted sugar in the bowl, and Prompto lifted his hand, streams of it falling through his fingers.

He opened his mouth.

Two minutes later, Noct crashed through the underbrush with Ignis behind him, eyes wild with panic. Prompto was sobbing in Gladio's arms, stopping now and then to give him a long, baleful glare before bursting into tears again.

"The hell did you do?" Noct asked. Gladio rolled his eyes.

"You did this to me!" Prompto wailed. "You did this to me, and now you won't even. Even let me..."

"He was trying to eat sand," Gladio said, and Prompto let out another heartbroken cry. 

"Oh," Noct said, and Prompto slumped in Gladio's hold, whimpering in misery. 

"You're all fucking _assholes,_ " Prompto sobbed, and Gladio rubbed his back.

"Yeah, I know," he said, as Prompto whined pathetically. "We're the worst."


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More pregnancy adventures (but I gloss over the labor a bit, since an accurate portrayal would be... well. Childbirth is messy.)

"Now," said the woman in the middle of the local Peacekeeper squad's abandoned rec room, adjusting her glittery shawls, "you must focus your inner eye on the core of your Truth, and breathe in harmony with the rhythm of the universe."

Prompto, sitting on a bejeweled cushion in the back of the class, cast a wary glance at Ignis. As the only one Prompto trusted to come to his childbirth classes without causing a scene, Ignis had come prepared with informational booklets, guides to practical midwifery, and a list of backup doctors and midwives in case there weren't any Prompto approved of at their first class. Now, Ignis stared at the instructor with the slow, steady glare he reserved for those who stole his coffee, and raised an eyebrow.

Prompto slowly took out his camera.

"Lift a corner of the curtain of the universe," the instructor said. "There! Do you see your child? No, it isn't your child, it's you, as a child. Say hello to yourself, darlings. Let the universe welcome you."

Ignis rolled his eyes. Prompto snapped a picture mid-roll, just as the whites showed under Ignis' glasses. The click of the shutter drew the attention of the Universe, which took the form of the instructor, glaring at them with the trembling rage of a small dog in an unfamiliar kitchen.

"We asked," she said, ice crackling over every syllable, "that worldly possessions be left at the door."

"Sorry," Prompto said, grinning.

"I'm afraid we may have to leave early," Ignis said. The instructor sighed, breathy and high, as Ignis helped Prompto to his feet. The other omegas and betas in the room watched them go, some with almost yearning expressions, and Prompto made it all the way to the door before he started to laugh.

"I thought you were gonna explode," he said, as Ignis knelt at his feet, tying up his boots for him. He didn't have to--Prompto was only four months along, he was pretty sure he could manage--but it was nice, letting someone else take care of him for a bit. Ignis was always going out of his way for Prompto, massaging his feet in the afternoons, letting him make a nest of Ignis' bed, cooking whatever new, strange mix of food that Prompto would eat in lieu of sand. Prompto reached out to stroke back Ignis' bangs, and Ignis looked up at him, smiling faintly.

"Thank the gods we're out of there, in any case," Ignis said. "How do you feel about stopping by the market for tofu?"

"Noct'll never forgive you," Prompto said. Ignis straightened, and Prompto wove an arm through his. 

"I'm sure his highness will survive."

The market was crowded for the noon lunch rush, and Prompto and Ignis, facing the flapping tent covers of open-air stands, decided to hedge their bets and split up. Prompto took on the local Hunter HQ stand, which sold everything from vegetables to spare dishwasher parts, and Ignis made a beeline for the tofu. 

Two off-duty Peacekeepers stood at the Hunter HQ stall, arguing with the owner over the price of a gem, and one of them turned to wave as Prompto approached. Dino and Coctura were one of the best teams in the region, but Coctura had a bad habit of turning a blind eye to Dino's moonlighting. She smiled at Prompto, and two pups at her feet erupted in a chorus of barks.

"Inside voices," she said, and one of the pups, who wore a red headband around her black ruff, gave her a pointed look. "I know we're outside. How are you, Prompto? We're missing you at lessons."

"Fifteen hundred gil for a lab-grown ruby?" Dino asked the stall owner. "Whaddaya take me for, huh?"

"Dino says hi, as well," Coctura said. "Girls, say hello to Uncle Prompto."

Prompto crouched to let the pups sniff his hair. As an omega couple, Coctura and Dino chose to adopt, and these two--Amber and Opal, Prompto was pretty sure--were only the youngest. He scratched their ears and laughed when they whined at the swell of his belly, trying to talk to the baby.

"Things are great," he said, and stood when one of the pups tried to place a paw on his stomach. "No way, buddy, not unless you've shifted. We picked a name. Clara if she's a girl, Regis if he's a boy."

"Still don't know yet?" Coctura asked. Dino's voice rose behind her, his accent getting thicker as he slammed gil on the table. "I'd be too curious, I can't..." She stopped, voice trailing off, and reached back to tap Dino on the shoulder. "Babe. There might be a code 620. Prompto, I'm gonna need you to stay calm."

"Stay calm for what?" Prompto asked. He turned to follow Coctura's gaze, and froze at the sight of Ignis, standing with his shoulders braced against a wall while a larger man grabbed him by the arm. 

"Prompto," Coctura said. "Prompto!"

He knew Ignis had it handled. Ignis' hands were inches from the knives he kept hidden at his back, and he'd been trained in combat since he was six. Still, something about the way the man stood over him, smiling like Ignis' tense pose and scowling face didn't matter, made Prompto's hackles rise. He strode across the market, ignoring Coctura and Dino's frantic shouts, and when the scent of an unfamiliar alpha hit him, a snarl started to rise in his throat.

"Hey!" he shouted.

"Paid three-fifty a night, tips split at the door," the alpha was saying. Prompto stamped up to them and grabbed the man's wrist.

"Hey," Prompto said. "Maybe you should back off."

Ignis hadn't seemed afraid before, but he was now, fear lacing his scent as the alpha turned to Prompto. "Prom," he said, "I had the matter in hand."

"This your omega?" The man tried to shake off Prompto, who tightened his hold. "That's fine. We don't have a policy on whether our betas can mate."

" _Your_ betas?" Prompto growled. His nails lengthened, shifting just enough to dig claws into the alpha's skin. He yelped and flung himself back, knocking Prompto's hand aside.

"Oh, mercy," Ignis said. "Prompto, I only ask that you don't hurt him."

"You ask that _he--?_ " the alpha started, then blanched as Prompto stepped forward.

"No promises," Prompto said, and braced his feet, readying himself for a solid kick.

"Alright, alright, hold your horses, buddy." Dino charged in, breathing hard, tying a red sash over his waist. The alpha winced at the sight, and backed up.

"I was just talking," he said, raising his hands, "and this bitch came in and attacked me."

Dino grinned. "Yeah? That how it went, Lord Scientia?"

The color started to drain from the alpha's face. "Lord..."

"Hardly," Ignis said. He went to Prompto and fussed over his collar, and only Prompto could feel the way his fingers trembled against the cloth. "He was trying to proposition me. He has some sort of beta-staffed brothel in the country, I gather. My mate only intervened."

"Huh," Dino said. He thumbed his nose. "Betas only? Solves the problem of accidental mating marks, don't it?" His smile widened. "It's also fuckin illegal, but hey, what do I know, I'm just a guy who can kick your ass three times to Sunday _and got two others comin' up behind ya to block your escape, genius._ "

The alpha sagged as two omegas in uniform appeared at the alley to his left, silver-gilt batons in hand.

"Nice goin', Prom," Dino said, as the on-duty Peacekeepers flanked the alpha. He winked. "Coulda let you handle it, but you know me. I'm a sucker for drama."

Prompto shrugged. A crowd was starting to gather, pressing up against his back, and he reached for Ignis. Coctura appeared, her girls shifted in bright red dresses, and looked Prompto up and down.

"You should go," she said. "It's all paperwork from here."

"But I wanna feel the baby!" cried one of her girls. 

"Next time," Prompto heard her say, as Ignis gently led him through the crowd. 

"See ya later, mama wolf!" Dino called.

Prompto could feel the panic rising, his heartbeat thudding in his ears, and it wasn't until they were on the road that he could sink into Ignis' calming scent. He kissed Ignis' cheek, then turned his head to kiss him properly, quick and frantic.

"I'm alright, Prompto," Ignis said, smiling against Prompto's mouth. "After all, I had, ha, I had you to--"

"Oh my gods," Prompto said, dropping his head to rest on Ignis' neck. "I almost fought an alpha."

"That you did," Ignis said, and scruffed the hair at the back of Prompto's head. "Mama wolf indeed."

The nickname stuck. Every time Prompto left the house for the next few months, he was greeted with calls of, "Hey, mama!" and "Here comes the mama Caelum!" It started to catch on at home, too, Gladio using it as an endearment, Noct laughing the name into Prompto's neck as they cuddled in Ignis' bed-turned-nest, and Ignis presenting Prompto with his own mug one morning as a six month gift.

"Okay," Prompto said at last, sipping from his new _mama wolf_ mug. "But if I'm Mama, someone else has to be Mom."

As one, the pack turned to Ignis. Ignis set his own mug down and sighed.

"Oh, for pity's sake."

\------------

When Prompto's due date came, so did the royal family.

Queen Sylva appeared first, Gladio carrying what looked like an army's worth of suitcases after her, with Luna following behind with the family midwife. They took over Gladio's room, Luna co-opted the coffee machine, and Ignis had only just recovered from the strain of unexpected royal visitors when Clarus Amicitia showed up, glowering darkly at a man behind him wearing oversized sunglasses and a black coat.

"Dad," Noct said, in faint horror. "No."

King Regis Lucis Caelum lifted off his glasses and smiled, and Noct groaned.

Thankfully, they only stayed a night, since the royal summer home was just an hour's run away. Cor had come with them, and ran interference at Prompto's door, letting in only one or two guests at a time.

The most awkward visit had to be with Clarus. Prompto hadn't really talked to him much: The accusation of being a spy still stung, and he couldn't be sure if Clarus approved of him yet. He sat in silence for a minute, fiddling with the edge of a blanket while Clarus stared at his hands.

"Gladiolus says you've been training with Cor," he said, after a minute.

"Oh. Oh, yes sir," Prompto said. "I mean. Off and on. When he can visit."

There was another long silence. Then Cor coughed, and Clarus' face colored slightly. He leaned down and pulled out a book, worn and bound in cracking leather. 

"I hear you like to..." Clarus paused, and Cor cleared his throat again. "I heard that you share Gladio's love of reading. This was one of his favorite books, as a child. It's been passed down for generations, through the Amicitia line." 

Prompto took the book, and squinted at the faded lettering. "Protectors of Lucis?"

"There's a sizable section on omegas," Clarus said. "Gladio's favorite was Argent the Quick, I believe. An ancestor of your beta." 

Prompto looked from the book in his hands to Clarus' red, grim face,and smiled. It was just like Noct had said at the beginning: Maybe all Amicitias had the same emotionally constipated alpha syndrome, and had to be goaded into an apology. 

"Thanks, Dad," he said.

Clarus stammered, and Cor, shuffling his feet at the door, grinned into his fist.

Regis and Sylva wouldn't leave the pack alone. They kept popping in over the next few days, harassing Noct over his eating habits and fussing over Prompto, and Ignis finally had to square his shoulders and announce that they needed to set visiting hours before Noct set the house on fire in self defense. 

They stayed in the living room during the actual labor, though, a silent, sleep-deprived line of sentinels picking through Ignis' leftovers while the pack and the Caelum family doctor saw to Prompto. Prompto tried, but his memories of the day and night of contractions, waiting, and last-minute pushing blurred together in brief moments. He remembered Ignis' hand in his. Gladio's voice as he read through the Amicitia storybook. Noct quietly hyperventilating, fumbling with the controls of Prompto's camera. Pain.

Then a sound. A high, frantic wail, breaking through Prompto's harsh breath and what sounded like hitching sobs from Gladio. Prompto tried to sit up, hands outstretched, and like a dream, like a vision he'd never dared to entertain for longer than a breath, he was holding the smallest, reddest, ugliest scrap of humanity he'd ever seen.

Regis Lucis Caelum Jr. screwed up his wrinkled, pink face and lifted tiny fists in the air.

"He's alive," Prompto said, holding his son to his chest. He was too exhausted to laugh. "He's actually... Gladio? Gladio, do you see this?"

Gladio took Prompto by the shoulder, tears streaming down his cheeks, and let out a strangled sort of croak. Noct patted him on the back. Ignis kissed Prompto's forehead, and Prompto grinned through his own tears, vision blurring.

"Hey, little guy," Prompto whispered, looking down at his son, who curled up against his skin and breathed deep. "Nice to finally meet you."


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's where things start to get dark. Remember, though! This is based off rkcart's AU, so the angst won't last forever.

Prompto was seventeen when Gladio predicted his future.

"It's a fundamental rule," he said. They were sitting on the floor of the living room, several feet from each other, Prompto's arms wrapped around a large chocobo plush. Gladio lifted a hand and counted off. "Every fairytale has it. The mother dies. The hero meets the villain. Then they lose everything. The rest of the story's supposed to be about climbing their way back up."

"That's bullshit," Prompto said. "Who wants to read something like _that?_ "

"Pretty much everyone," Gladio said, and skimmed through his book. "No one stays happy in a fairytale, Prom. They have to fight for it, first."

Four years later, Prompto rolled onto his back in the dry earth of Niflheim, and counted his losses.

 _Disaster comes in threes,_ Gladio had said.

His mother. As strong and brave as the omegas in the storybook Prompto read to little Regis, beautiful and deadly as the slow movement of ice along a slope, traveling day and night to find her son and bring him home. Blood pooling below her body as Ardyn swept Prompto in his arms, mottled fur just visible under the rug that covered her.

The villain. Ardyn, fitting cruelty about his shoulders like a cloak and calling it kindness, telling Prompto that he was lucky, privileged, a _favorite._ Goading him along as he tried, desperately, to please him, only to shake his head and mournfully declare that Prompto was not enough. That he _deserved_ what was coming. _It pains me, boy, to see you like this._

Losing everything.

Prompto took an unsteady breath.

"That's long enough," said Ardyn. A hand gripped the cuffs around Prompto's red, blistering wrists, and dragged him to his feet. Prompto's knees scraped the earth as he struggled to rise, and he felt a name curl on his tongue, heavy and warm.

Regis.

He looked up at Ardyn, and spat blood on the dirt at his feet.

"When my pack kills you," Prompto said, "I'll make sure no one on Eos remembers your name."

Ardyn smiled, and Prompto didn't bother ducking the blow. He fell heavily, letting his body sag as Ardyn tried to pull him up again.

"Time's wasting," Ardyn said, and snarled as Prompto fell from his hold, twisting on his side.

"When my pack kills you," Prompto said again, breathing in dust and blood, "I'll scatter your bones, and you'll never walk the fields of the dead."

There was a low laugh, and a shadow blotted out the stars.

"Oh, darling," Ardyn said, running a hand over Prompto's hair. "I missed you, too."

\--------

Disaster comes in threes.

Gladio.

Gladio with his keen eye and his over-full heart, the yearn to _protect_ that turned him from the wolf tracks of his hunting grounds, following the scent of enemy Nifs. Gladio, powerful body slicing through the underbrush with the deadly strength of a boar, of a behemoth, of one of the spirits that wandered the barrows of the old kings. He sought out the alphas because his pack was at home, safe, sheltered, unknowing of the danger at their border. He would take them down quickly, return to his pack, to his three month old son. He would laugh as Prompto insisted on washing the blood from his hands.

Ignis. 

Ignis, leaving the tap running in the sink as he shifted into his wolf form, racing across the lawn towards the river. The wind that carried the scent of the enemy to his nose turned, muddled by laundry soap and the scent of the man he loved, and the child he'd coaxed into his first laugh just three days before. 

Ignis, with Prompto's hands in his fur, bearing him and their pup back to the house as the scent of Niflheim wolves flooded their territory.

Ignis, breathing slow as the door slammed shut.

Ignis, clawing through flesh and sinew as the enemy betas howled in pain.

Ignis, lying on the grass with his face a mask of blood his face so dark against eyes that wouldn't open not Ignis gods not Ignis the blood slick as a mask as a face of blood not Ignis no not

Ignis

Noctis. Holding little Regis in his arms, his lips parted from Prompto's last kiss. Words in his throat that couldn't be spoken.

_Come back. Come back soon._

It was better left unsaid.

Because it was Prompto who came to Ardyn, who fell to his knees at Ignis' side, whose grasping fingers felt for a pulse even as Ardyn pulled him away with a blood-slick hand. 

Because Prompto knew, now, why enchanted princes and lost princesses walked to their deaths. Ardyn would never stop. Unless Prompto offered his wrists to the silver cuffs that burned his skin and warmed under Ardyn's gloves, Ardyn would not rest until he discovered Regis. 

And Prompto would gladly lose everything if it meant his son would survive.

The stars over Niflheim wheeled as Prompto forced himself to fall from Ardyn's back, rolling on the broken ground as the howls of Ardyn's betas sounded around him. He blinked up at Ardyn when the alpha shifted, placing a heavy foot on Prompto's neck.

Disasters come in threes.

"When my pack kills you," Prompto gasped for the third time, speaking the words like a curse, an invocation. "When my... pack..."

There was a burst of pain in his side, the crack of a rib breaking, and Prompto heaved for breath even as Ardyn's foot pressed down.

"Gods," Ardyn said, and spots bloomed in Prompto's vision. "They've ruined you."


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Violence and rape happens here, though I try not to be too explicit. There's also a moment where CSA is implied, as well as some disassociation.

Ardyn's main entrance hall hadn't changed since the last time Prompto saw it, but there was something unusual about the way it was built that he hadn't noticed before. It was the way the roof tried to arch, the wide doors with their iron hinges, the pillars that lined either side of the entranceway. It felt like a crude imitation of the Citadel, a child's imagining of a castle. Prompto fell to his knees before Ardyn's chair--his throne--and nearly laughed. Here Ardyn was, surrounding himself with his own court, his own castle, grasping for the facade of power with no interest in what it took to rule. Prompto thought of Noct, sitting at a worn kitchen table with his monthly reports while Prompto fed Regis, and risked a smile.

"Happy to be home?" Ardyn asked. Laughter came from behind, low and forced, but Prompto turned at the sound of feet scraping on tile. His heart clenched in his chest--Aranea stood in the back, held by two alphas, eyes wide with panic. Her long white hair had slipped out of its ties and hung loose over her shoulders, and her jaw was clenched so tight that Prompto's teeth ached in sympathy.

"I'd say to ask me again when I'm back in Lucis," Prompto said. He forced himself to look away. "But I don't think you'll be able to talk with your throat ripped--"

Well. He knew _that_ was coming. 

He pushed himself to his hands and knees, blood oozing from a cut on his lip, as Ardyn turned to tug off his gloves. He held them in one fist and snapped with the other, and Prompto had to force down the urge to jerk to attention. At the end of the hall, a young omega stepped out of the shadows.

She was fourteen at most, with fair hair and the gaunt, sharp-boned cheeks of hunger, and when she padded barefoot across the tile, Prompto recognized her uneasy, stumbling gait. He'd used it enough in his own stolen childhood, gingerly moving around the pain, trying to keep himself as small and hunched and unappealing as possible while he scurried to accomplish Ardyn's impossible tasks.

The omega girl took Ardyn's gloves, and winced when he brushed fingers under her chin.

Prompto moved without thinking, borne by instinct, by the fury of a parent, the grief of a man who'd never fully mourned the loss of his own childhood. He shifted, the silver cuffs snapping around his paws, teeth flashing, a snarl building in his throat. He tasted blood on his tongue as he savaged the tendons at the back of Ardyn's left leg, and was rewarded with a howl of pain that echoed in the wide entrance hall.

A heavy weight pinned Prompto to the ground, and he stiffened at the pricking of teeth at his neck. Ardyn stood before him, paler than before, blood soaking his tailored trousers and seeping into the leather of his boots.

"Muzzle him," he said, and Prompto lunged. "Then bring him to my rooms. It's time he remembers his _place._ "

\----------

"Come on, Reg." Noctis lay in bed, curled around his son as the baby wailed in a high, broken voice. He had Prompto's favorite hoodie bunched up at Regis' side, and tried tapping his face with a finger, the way Prompto used to. "Come on. You gotta sleep sometime."

Regis jr. only thrashed in his onesie, face red, hiccuping between sobs. Noct picked him up, held him to his shoulder, and draped the hoodie over him for good measure.

"Hey, little buddy," he said. "Hey."

Across the hall, Ignis' room was deathly quiet, but Noct could taste the misery in his scent. Gladio was with him, trying to coax him to eat, to move, to uncurl from Prompto's nest long enough to let him reapply salve over his scars.

When the doctor gave them the news a week ago, that Ignis would be lucky to even detect light in his remaining eye, Ignis had lain back on his cot and said the first words he'd spoken since the day Prompto was taken.

"It's no less than I deserve."

Regis whimpered, and Noct crooned, humming nonsensical nursery rhymes as he walked them down the hall.

_"Down at Galdin,"_ he sang.

"You need to eat, Iggy." Gladio's voice was soft, too soft. 

_"By the big blue sea."_

"Just a bite, Iggy, that's all I ask."

_"I found my baby..."_

Gladio's voice lowered to a murmur. There was a thud, and the door trembled. 

_"And he said to me..."_

He trailed off, a hand on Regis' back, and looked out the window towards the dark horizon where Prompto had been taken. 

And Noctis Lucis Caelum, the youngest heir to the territory of Lucis and leader to a shattered pack, whispered to the whimpering child on his shoulder.

"Don't worry, Regis," he breathed. "We'll get him back. I promise."

\----------

There was a story in one of the books at the top of Gladio's bookshelf. It was about a woman made of stone and magic, who was wished to life to be the bride of an artist. That was it. No questions. No considering what _she_ wanted. She was made for him, guided into a shape he would like, forced to smile and bend and share his bed.

Ardyn's breath came through his teeth, hot over the mark he'd made on Prompto's neck.

It didn't seem right. No one was ever really made for anyone but themselves. If he were the statue, he would've taken off as soon as he knew what the artist wanted.

Ardyn was speaking. "Omega whore. They fucked you savage, didn't they, let you go feral in the Lucian wilds. Eight years I offered you myself, when you were nothing but a _filthy, cock-hungry--_ "

When Prompto read the story to Regis, he'd change the ending. Make the woman run, wake the statue of the chocobo in the town square and ride off to freedom. She'd create a city of statues, all perfect, all themselves, with hearts made of stone.

Prompto's arms gave out, and Ardyn held him up by the hips, never minding the way the carpet scraped across the omega's bruised and bleeding face.

A heart of stone. That's what he needed. He could lock his secrets there, keep Regis safe, beyond the place where pain dragged a strangled cry from Prompto's throat. Ardyn would never find him. He'd never learn his name.

A hand fisted in Prompto's hair, and Prompto sank into the walls of the heart he'd made for himself, holding the memory of his son in his mind like the last spark of a dying fire.

\--------

It was a month before Noct and Gladio were ready. Every step beyond their house was a risk, especially when Ignis, still learning how to navigate a world gone dark, kept waking in the night to try and make for the border himself. The only thing that calmed him during those episodes was Regis, who was curled up in Ignis' arms as Noct put on yet another one of Prompto's hoodies. They had to be careful not to wear them too often, for fear of drowning out Prompto's scent altogether, but no one could deny Noct this. Not really.

"I'll be back soon," he said.

"Be careful," Gladio said. "If one of them tells--"

"I know." Noct covered his face with the hood. "But we can't do this alone."

When he walked into town, Noct wasn't surprised to find that people he passed avoided his gaze. They skirted around him, eyes down, whispering as soon as they were at his back, their voices soft as the rustle of wind in the bushes.

He opened the door of the district Peacekeepers' headquarters.

Most of the Peacekeepers in the region were there, crowded together on cheap plastic chairs. They turned as one when Noct entered, and he had to force himself to keep moving, to walk to the front of the room. He'd always let Luna and Ravus handle the public speaking, back at the Citadel. So many eyes on him at once made him go wooden, fearful as a pup in the path of an unknown pack.

But Prompto was in Niflheim, and Noct had no choice.

"You probably know," he said. His voice was hoarse. He cleared it, and a woman pushed a cup of water in his hands. "Thanks. I. So Prompto was abducted last month. By Ardyn Izunia."

The room erupted into chaos. Noct waited as people Prompto had taken classes with rose to their feet, as his acquaintances from market trips and movie nights shouted in dismay, as his friends in the guard sat in shaky, grim-faced silence in their chairs. 

"Why?" someone asked. She was a young woman, new to the group, with dark curly hair and a stubborn chin. Noct had seen Prompto laughing with her once, making cactuar figurines dance on a stall table. "Why would another pack..."

"It isn't my story to tell," Noct said. "But I have to, because you all should know what's happening. What Ardyn's done... What he's doing."

He drained his glass, closed his eyes, and told them.

He didn't say everything. Just enough, just the parts that had kept his pack lying awake at night while Prompto thrashed in the throes of a nightmare. Just enough to make Monica go pale and the newer recruits cry out. Just enough.

"We're gonna get him back," he said, and the whispers that had built since he began to speak died down. "But we have Regis, now, and even three of us wouldn't be enough. Not for what we want to do."

"When we get Prompto, we're not stopping there. We're gonna take every omega from Ardyn's pack. Every one. And we'll need your help to do it."

He raised his voice the way his father had taught him, and spoke with the calm, assured authority that made even Gladio back down and listen. He was slight in his dark clothes, eyes hollow with lack of sleep, but the omegas before him straightened in their seats, wary and watchful.

"What I'm asking you to do," he said, "will break every treaty we have with Niflheim, Besithia, and pack Drautos. I can't say that if you do this, you're guaranteed to come back. I can't make any promises that you--that all of us--won't be tried for treason when this is done. When we make our strike on Ardyn's pack, I will turn myself in to my father, giving you enough time to act before the Crownsguard moves in." He took a deep breath. "But even if none of you join us, we'll still do this. Even if I have to give Regis to my sister and go into Ardyn's territory myself--"

He stopped as Monica, the district captain, stood from her seat at the back of the crowd. She walked down the center aisle, unpinning the captain's badge on her shoulder as she went. She dropped to a knee at the front of the aisle, and let the badge fall.

"I swore an oath to her majesty when I signed up, your highness," she said, and her usually calm, level voice shook. "Some twenty years ago, now. But for you--for Prompto--I'll swear another. Whatever you need, I'll see it done."

Behind her, Dino made to stand, but Coctura shook her head, holding him down by the shoulder. She walked to Monica's side and knelt, slowly ripping off the sergeant's badge on her arm.

One by one, Peacekeepers left their seats and knelt, a sea of bowed heads before the prince, who swallowed down the sting of tears and forced himself to look at each of them in turn.

"Alright," he said, in a much softer voice. "I guess we're doing this."


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok! Time for a rescue! So there's rape, derogatory language, and violence in this one, including some gore. Heed the warnings!

There was a story Prompto's mother used to tell him, before the world ended. 

_Long ago, when the fields of the dead lay empty under a waxing moon, the queen of creation grew lonely._

_She had never experienced loneliness before, but when she felt the first pangs of it thrum through her skin, she rose from her crystal throne and turned to the night sky. There, she pulled out a pair of scissors and carefully cut out a shape in the brilliant dome of space. She pulled it free, and it shook out its fur and bared teeth as bright as a sun._

_This was the first omega._

Prompto leaned his head back against the headboard of Ardyn's bed, and heard the clink of a chain. The collar at his neck was crudely made, heavy with studded iron, and when Ardyn leaned over him, Prompto rolled his eyes back to look up at the thick red canopy.

"I admit," Ardyn said, rolling Prompto over by the hips, "that I almost feel bad about this."

" _Fuck..._ you."

"Now, now, Prompto, what happened to that respectful little boy I used to know?" His hand traced up Prompto's thigh. "What do we do when someone makes an open-ended statement? You say, _Sorry about what, Alpha?_ And then I say--" Ardyn pushed forward, and Prompto bit his cheek until he could taste the copper tang of blood. "For lying to you, of course. Call it sentimentality. A foolish strain of sympathy for the dear omega who only ever wanted to please me. For his sake, I let you live in your happy little delusions."

The chain rattled. Ardyn's teeth grazed Prompto's neck.

"We started with your alpha."

_But the omega, too, knew the sting of loneliness, and they came to the queen and begged her to give them a companion. So the queen took out her scissors and cut a shape out of the grass, which rose and opened eyes red as molten stone beneath the earth._

_This was the first alpha._

"It was easy to lead him astray. One alpha, oh, he could handle one, but two left him howling. He tried to make it to that little shack of yours in the woods--"

"No," Prompto said. The headboard slammed against the wall, chipping plaster.

"But he didn't make it to the door."

Prompto jerked forward, and spat blood onto the silk pillowcase beneath him. 

"You saw the beta's corpse for yourself," Ardyn said.

Had he? Was Ignis breathing, when he found him? Prompto dimly remembered movement, the warmth of his neck when he reached for a pulse, but he was dragged away too soon. 

And there had been so much blood.

"Not Ignis," Prompto whispered.

"Ignis? What a charming name."

_Still, the queen's creations were lonely. Still they cried to her, but she told them that they were enough, that there could be no hole left in their hearts. So the omega waited until the queen slept, and stole the scissors from her pocket. Together, the alpha and omega cut out a piece of the north wind, which laughed and tumbled to the ground. This was the first beta._

"Of course, the omega had to go as well." Prompto stiffened. "I've wanted to make my move against Lucis for some time, now. A wretched country, set to be ruled by betas and omegas? Perverting the natural order of life, of society? And they impose sanctions on _us?_ Astrals, I've wanted this for decades. And you, my dear, you gave it to me. With the prince safe in his little home, my betas set the fire at the door--"

"No."

"And let the bitch burn."

No. No, that was impossible. Noct had been in the house with Regis. If Noctis died, then Regis, Regis would have--

"Oh, yes," Ardyn said. "We're coming for the king, too. One step at a time, my sweet."

Prompto didn't even realize he'd been saying Regis' name. He pulled himself away from Ardyn, clung to the headboard as Ardyn fiercely dragged him back. 

"You're lying," Prompto hissed.

"Am I?" Ardyn yanked Prompto down, placing an elbow on his back. "How long has it been? A month? A month and a half? And still no word from your pack? Oh, my dear..."

_And the queen of creation smiled, and blessed her children with the ability to shape themselves, and their world. The barren fields of the dead filled with the laughter of their descendants, and in time, even the queen forgot the pain of loneliness._

\---------

Cor Leonis appeared at the door in the third month after Prompto's capture, bearing a handful of coded letters Gladio had sent to members of the Crownsguard. He laid them out on Noct's dining table in silence, one by one, in a neat, orderly row.

"You're going after Ardyn," he said.

Noctis and Gladio said nothing. Ignis, holding Regis in his arms, turned his ruined face to the marshal.

"He'll die this time," he said. Noct flinched--Ignis had barely spoken since the attack, save for murmured words of comfort when they passed a sobbing Regis between them. "We'll do whatever it takes."

"Even crossing territory lines?" Cor asked. "Breaking a treaty that took fifteen years to make?"

"He has Prompto," Ignis said. 

"We'll take that risk," said Gladio.

Cor gathered the papers together and walked them to the sink, where he set them under the tap. As the ink began to run, he looked back to the three men at the table.

"None of you have fought in a war before," he said. "Ignis, you've been trained for it, but you don't know how fast a fight can go sideways--"

"I do," Ignis said. Again, he spoke in a sharp, harsh tone Noct had never heard before, and Regis squirmed in his hold, reaching up to tap his face. "Trust me."

"Well." Cor turned off the sink. "I know how Ardyn fights. When something works, he sticks with it, even if the rest of the world moves on without him. If we're going to take out his pack, we need to do something he won't expect."

He sat down at the table and folded his hands before him. "Officially, I'm here to help Ignis through his recovery. But I am at your disposal, your highness, as are my soldiers." 

In the silence that followed this, a beta willingly turning from his pack to aid another, Noctis stood and took Cor's hand.

"Good to have you on board, Uncle Cor."

\-----------

The alpha on duty at the border of Ardyn Izunia's compound flipped his flashlight in the air, watching light dance on the underbrush around him. It was a cold night, with a bitter wind blowing at his back, and he had a sneaking suspicion that he wouldn't get his pick of bitches when he got off shift. The boss had his pet omega back, so that meant everyone had to have a turn, whether they wanted it or not.

He wasn't sure he wanted it. Last time, he'd gotten a look at the omega's eyes, half-lidded and dull, and felt a chill run down his neck. It was like he was fucking a ghost, or a doll. He had to hold the bitch's face down just to get off.

And afterwards, what had the omega said? _Etro._ He asked, later, and his buddy said she was the goddess of death, the one the Besithias worshipped. What kind of freak prayed to a goddess who went around killing people? 

Someone perfect for Ardyn, probably. 

"Please!"

The alpha tensed. There, a voice in the bushes, some ways off. He inched forward, unbuttoning his jacket to prepare for a shift, and jumped when a young woman burst out of the dark.

She had blond hair that fell about her shoulders, a trim waist, decent skin. Maybe a little heavy at the hips, but good enough. And she reeked of omega.

He smiled. Maybe he'd get his pick, anyways.

"Something wrong, sweetheart?" he asked. The woman grabbed his arms, and he saw she wore rings over her gloves. Strange, but after living with Ardyn, he'd seen stranger. 

"I'm sorry," the woman said, panting hard. Her chest heaved with every breath. "I'm from the border. There were raiders, they... They took everything we had, I know Izunia doesn't take refugees, but I--"

"Don't worry, baby," he said. He flipped off his flashlight. Better to do it in the dark, without one of the other guards to sound an alarm. "We'll take care of you."

"Thank the gods," the woman said. She lifted her hand to stroke his cheek, and the alpha gasped as pain flared on his skin, burning lines following the path of her rings.

She gripped his jaw with a firm hand, and popped one of the rings in his mouth. He screamed, tongue working around the metal as his knees gave out from the pain, and collapsed to the cold earth before the omega.

"Don't worry, baby," she said, and shadows emerged from the darkness around her, bearing clubs that shone with the sinister gleam of silver. "We'll take care of you, too."

\--------

In his childhood bedroom at the Citadel, Noctis Lucis Caelum stood, holding his child in his arms. He crossed the empty hallway, his soft shoes making no sound on the carpet, and smiled weakly when young Regis patted his face.

"Ma," Regis said. "Ma ma ma ma ma ma."

"Mmhm." Noct was wearing another one of Prompto's shirts, but after four months, he could barely detect his scent anymore. Still, it seemed to help a little, as Regis kept gripping the fabric in both hands and tugging it close, babbling faintly.

When he reached the door to his father's rooms, the king opened it himself. Noct took a breath.

"Dad," he said. "I--"

"The first battle is always the hardest," his father said, and gently took Regis Jr from Noct's arms. The baby stared up at his namesake, hands extended to pet his soft beard. "Sit down, son. I have tea brewing."

Noct stood at the door, staring numbly, as the king bounced his wide-eyed grandson in his arms. After a minute, he sighed.

"Noctis. I did not become king by closing my eyes and sticking my fingers in my ears. Do you believe Cor came to you on his own? Sit. Now."

"But it's... It's treason, Dad. I'm, we're invading..."

"Ardyn Izunia broke his treaty with us when he abducted my son-in-law," Regis said. He lifted his grandson in the air. "And he blinded another. I have the support of his own superior, Iedolas, whose troops should be striking from the North come midnight."

Noct staggered to the couch and fell into it, blinking down at the map of Niflheim laid out on the coffee table. Regis Jr was deposited into his lap, and a mug of tea dropped over a patch between Niflheim and Lucis.

"Now," said his father, sitting in the chair opposite. He smiled, eyes narrowing, and lifted his own mug of tea. "Let us wait this out together."

\----------

Gladio and Ignis were the last to go. They hung back as the Peacekeepers swept in, picking off sentries, dressing in dead alphas' clothes, and flashing misleading signals to remaining guards. They led the guards into traps, into pits and levered spikes hastily hidden in the brush, into the arms of waiting Peacekeepers. They cleared a space for the Crownsguard to come in, their scents muffled by mud and swamp water, racing across the dark grounds as omegas shot out border lights one by one. When Gladio spotted the signal from Cor and Monica, he tapped Ignis once on the shoulder. They shifted, and Gladio sharpened his scent, letting it be an anchor for Ignis to follow.

When Ardyn stepped out of the largest house in the compound, black jacket fluttering behind him, Gladio couldn't help himself. He shifted again, rising to his feet in one fluid motion, and raised his voice over the shouts and howls of Ardyn's remaining pack.

"Ardyn Izunia!"

Ardyn turned. He walked oddly, favoring his right leg, and Gladio smiled. 

"Who gave you the limp, Ardyn?" he shouted. Behind him, Ignis made a soft noise in the back of his throat. "Left leg," Gladio whispered.

"Ah," Ardyn said. Two betas flanked him, hackles up, teeth bared. "I wondered when you might come to us. And you brought your beta, how quaint. I fear I may--"

There was a blur of movement, and the beta at his right went down, rolling under the paws of a grey and white wolf. The new wolf thrashed and snapped at the beta's neck, raking deep gouges in their belly, and Ardyn snapped his head around to snarl an order.

Only for Ignis to leap for the second beta. Gladio stepped around them as Ignis' snarls rose in the air, drowning out the yowl of pain as the strange new wolf ripped into the first beta's chest.

For a moment, Ardyn's eyes were cast in fear.

Good.

Gladio shifted, and the world became nothing but claw and tooth, fur and muscle, the panting breath of Ardyn's mouth at his neck, his throat. Gladio lost track of Ignis, of their unexpected ally, of the howls of terror and triumph that shook the very earth beneath his paws. It was just this. Gladio, Ardyn, and the cold, terrible rage that had built in Gladio's chest from the moment he'd learned the truth of Prompto's early life. He fought back against every flinch, every apology, every look of fear when someone raised their voice or Prompto made a mistake. He fought for the children Prompto still mourned, for the child he was never allowed to be. For Ignis, weeping into the night as Gladio sat on, helpless and silent. For Noct, building nests in Prompto's room. For Regis.

He dug his claws into Ardyn's belly and _pulled,_ dragging out twisted lumps of intestine and punctured organs. Then, as Ardyn whimpered in the mess, bleeding out on the dirt of what had once been his pack, Gladio sank his jaws into Ardyn's neck and ripped out his throat.

He stood from the savaged corpse, blood streaking his mouth and running down his chest as he gradually shifted back into a man. There were wolves around them, some alphas, some betas, warily circling him and Ignis as they stepped over Ardyn's body. Their unknown ally was gone, but they didn't need them: When the two of them moved forward, the wolves shrank back, baring their necks in submission.

"I already have a pack," Gladio said, and turned for the door of the great house beyond. Ignis followed, leaving the body of Ardyn Izunia to collapse, blood draining into the dry and hungry earth.

They didn't bother with the wolves who still cowered within the house. They walked in, drenched in the blood of the pack alpha, and followed Ardyn's scent to a large, ornately carved wooden door at the end of a long hall. Gladio pushed it open, and winced at the scent that met him, old fear and pain, thick as smoke. And beneath it all, a scent so familiar that Gladio nearly wept.

At his side, Ignis held onto the doorframe, scenting the air.

"Gods," he said. 

A chain clinked, and Gladio sank to his knees.

" _Prompto._ "


	16. Chapter 16

The newspapers called it the Omega War.

To the people of Lucis, it was the night that their world became less certain, the night that sent countless betas and omegas fleeing Niflheim, bringing with them harrowing stories that made packs tighten the borders of their own territories in fear. It was the night they learned that their youngest prince, so quiet and easily overlooked, had organized a strike that took out Niflheim's greatest pack in the course of an evening. Some said he had heard of a Lucian omega being taken by Ardyn Izunia, and overcome with the duty to protect his people, had set up the operation to save them. But when journalists asked their sources who that omega was, none of them would say.

Only Dino, who watched his mate come home with a splinted leg and two young omegas, red-haired and wild-eyed, never asked.

For the omegas and unfavored betas of Ardyn's pack, that night didn't need to be named. It was the night they found black-clad strangers at their doors, kind voices guiding them from the screams of their tormentors, and the promise of safety.

For Monica, a lone wolf for thirty years with no regrets to show for it, it was the night that a middle-aged beta from Ardyn's pack threw himself between two children and the alpha who tried to pull them back into the compound. Monica stepped over his body and crushed the alpha's skull with a blow of her baton. When she turned to the children, a boy and a girl crouching over the man who had died for them, she leaned down and took their hands.

"I'm sorry," she said, and two pairs of eyes looked to her, hard as steel. "But you'll have to be brave."

"You, too," said the girl, and Monica found, in that moment, that she would never know what it was like to be a lone wolf again.

For Coctura, who didn't have the heart to tell the Nif omega who tied up her leg that she could no longer feel a thing below the knee, it was her last night as a Peacekeeper.

For Aranea, who watched from the shadows as the only boy she'd thought of as family was carried out in the arms of his packmates, it was a revelation.

For Ardyn, it was the night his skin grew cold, and his body went foul, sagging and forgotten as omegas ran past him in silence, heedless of his presence.

No one knew what that night was for Prompto.

He lay in Ignis' arms with the listless, expressionless face of a lost spirit, blinking slowly as Ignis bundled him into the back of one of Ardyn's expensive cars while Gladio hotwired the engine. He didn't speak when Ignis called him _darling,_ when a thermos was pressed to his lips, when Ignis' trembling fingers ghosted over his hair.

_Prompto, darling, it's me. I'm here, we've found you, we're taking you home._

His gaze was fixed on the stars overhead, watching intently as the car roared its way past the battle, into the dark stretch of road towards Lucis.

He didn't speak when he was gently carried out of the car a few hours later, dressed in old clothes that no longer fit him, and rushed through empty hallways and onto a cot that wheeled and bumped it's way into a room full of quiet, efficient nurses. He waited while they took blood samples, while they saw to his bruises and new scars, while they treated the burns at his hands and feet. 

It wasn't until morning, when Prince Noctis broke through a line of concerned doctors and pushed open the door of Prompto's room, that he spoke at all.

"Prom," Noct said. "Prom, I--"

But it wasn't Noctis who Prompto tried to sit up for. It wasn't Noctis who had Prompto's sudden, frantic focus. It was Regis Jr, who wriggled in Noct's arms, stretched out his hands, and whispered _ma_ into the stillness of the hospital room.

"No," Prompto said, in a hoarse, terrible croak. "He isn't. He's too old to be dead, he's so--Regis, baby, Regis--"

He tried to climb out of his cot, tugging at IV tubes and heart monitors, and Noct rushed forward to push Regis in his arms before he fell.

Prompto held Regis tight, bony hands caressing his hair as his son, recognizing the one whose absence had shaken his small world to the core, burst into tears.

"You're so much bigger now," Prompto rasped, and bowed over him, tears stinging his skin, smiling so wide that his dry lips cracked and bled.

\------------

It took Prompto all of three days to realize that he _hated_ hospitals. He hated the way the nurses never let him walk around unsupervised, even when Prompto woke with a start, certain that the memories of his pack were all the imaginings of a ghost, that his empty arms had never held a son. He hated the food, which had none of Ignis' elaborate flair, he hated the thick binders that Crown psychologists brought with them and their insistence that he try _one or two little exercises, to help your recovery._ He even hated the smell, a cloying mix of citrus and antiseptics that confused the scent of his mates.

It was on the third day that Clarus Amicitia sent his first note. It came in the hands of a young boy named Talcott, who ran in covered in grass stains and carrying little Regis on one hip, a stack of books on the other.

"Mr. Amicitia said I could steal him," Talcott said, plopping the bewildered baby on Prompto's legs. Regis cooed, hiccuped, and sprouted tufty brown wolf ears from his bedraggled mop of hair. "And he said he knows you like photography, but the, uh, he used a bad word when he talked about the director not allowing cameras, but he got you this."

He shoved a stack of sketchbooks into Prompto's side, then handed him a note. Prompto gathered up Regis, who was rolling over in an attempt to find out what had happened to his ears, and opened the thick square of paper.

_Son,_ it said, in neat, careful script. _Don't let them bully you. If they're feeding you that prepackaged shit, tell the hospital director that Clarus Amicitia pushed him in the duck pond once, and won't hesitate to do it again._

"That's kind of bullying, too," Prompto muttered, and Talcott grinned.

"That's what I thought. Not..." Talcott's eyes went wide. "Not like I read people's notes. Um."

"You're good, Talcott. I don't count as people." Prompto lifted Regis in the air, and Regis shrieked.

"That's not true, sir." Talcott was fiddling with his shirtfront, biting his lower lip. "I mean, you escaped the Niffs twice. Twice! No one does that, not even Cor the Immortal. And you mated a prince, but you aren't a lord or a noble or whatever, and everyone in the Citadel likes you because whenever you're here you're always so nice, and my grandpa says its like Miss Aulea has come back with your face on which doesn't make sense because that's kind of creepy? But I think--"

Prompto tried to keep up, really, but when Talcott got started, it was hard for him to find a single train of thought and stick to it. Talcott stubbornly stuck to Prompto's side when the hospital director came in, and told the older man that he was there on "urgent Crownsguard business" and couldn't be removed "on pain of death." He said this while holding little Regis upside down on his lap, which ruined the effect, but Prompto appreciated the gesture.

The second note came the next day, along with an exasperated nurse who told Talcott that he couldn't keep kidnapping royal children.

"Prince Noctis said it was okay," Talcott said. He was watching as Prompto tricked Regis into laughing, startling the baby into shifting. Talcott applauded and shifted into a scruffy golden wolf pup, and propped both feet on the bed.

"Please," the nurse begged. "No shifting in the hospital."

Talcott howled. Little Regis stared at him, looked to Prompto, and flung his head back in a series of howling yips that had him tumbling backwards.

"I'll have to ask that you--oh, gods," the nurse said, as Prompto shifted too, making the bed groan under his weight. The nurse had to turn around to hide her laughter as all three wolves took up a howl, Regis stopping now and then to bark in distress as he stumbled over with the effort of getting it right.

The notes had turned into full-blown letters by the time Prompto and his pack left the Citadel. Clarus didn't come to see them off, wary that the scent of an alpha would worry Prompto, but Iris and Talcott came with a four page letter, a basket of toys, and a box of art supplies. 

Another letter was already waiting for them when they got to the house.

"Your dad has a new favorite, Gladio," Noctis said, but Prompto wasn't listening. He walked through the house on his own, trailing his hands along the unmarked walls and scuffing the slightly dusty floors. He peered into the nursery, checked the kitchen, tapped his fingers on the pictures that hung in the hallway.

He got to Noct's room and paused.

"We kind of missed you," Noct said, from behind him. Noct had turned his bed into a kind of nest, padded with Prompto's favorite blankets and hoodies, and it was clear that the pack had all been sleeping there for a while, taking comfort in what was left of Prompto's presence.

"Ardyn said you'd died," Prompto said, in a faint voice. "Said he'd set the house on fire."

"He also said he was the best fighter in Niflheim," Noct said. "But Gladio took him down in a minute. Talk about a shitty fucking liar, huh?"

"Yeah," Prompto said. 

"Bet he got that dye job out of a bottle, too."

Prompto smiled a little wider. "Probably just soaked it in wine. I bet he bleached it."

"Gross."

"Noctis?" Ignis' voice came from down the hall. "Prompto? What would you like for--"

"Can we just--" Prompto stopped, fear building as he realized he'd just interrupted, and had to stare at the bed to ground himself again. He wasn't with Ardyn. He was home, where he could speak whenever he wanted, where he was...

He lifted a hand to the mark of Ardyn's teeth on his neck.

"What is it, Prom?" Noct asked.

"I just want you guys right now," Prompto said. "If it's ok."

"You sure?" That was Gladio, hanging back a ways behind Ignis. Prompto winced, and covered the mark, his stomach churning uncomfortably. Every time he looked at Gladio, every time he flinched at the scent of an alpha and saw his face contort in pain, every time he remembered Ardyn biting over Gladio's mating mark, again and again, he felt like a traitor. He knew it was wrong, knew it was Ardyn's doing, not his, but he couldn't help the shame that burned in his chest all the same.

"Yeah," he said. "I need my pack."

So even though it was well past dinner, even though Regis was too grumpy and energetic to sleep, Prompto found himself climbing into the middle of Noct's bed, holding his wriggling pup in both arms. Noct climbed in to curl up in front of him, Gladio at Noct's back, and Ignis hovered at the edge of the bed, uncertain.

"I understand if you don't want me here," he said, after a moment had passed. Prompto sat up, and saw that Ignis' head was turned aside, his one good eye a milky white. 

"Ignis," Prompto said. 

"I let him take you." The words were soft, barely audible, and Prompto let go of Regis. The pup scrambled onto Gladio, shoving a paw on his cheek and licking his hair.

"Get down here," Prompto said. He took Ignis by the shoulders, and gently urged him down to his knees on the bed. "You didn't let him do anything, Iggy. You did everything for me. You and Noct and Gladio..." He swallowed thickly. "You started a war for me."

"You were worth it," Noct said, and Ignis nodded. Prompto brushed a thumb under his eye.

"I'm gonna kiss you, if that okay," he whispered. Ignis nodded again, and Prompto kissed the salt from his cheeks, kissed the tip of his nose, the scar over his lip. He smiled at the last one, and Ignis sank down, wrapping his arms around Prompto's waist. Noct kissed Prompto's shoulder. Gladio laid a tentative arm over Noct to reach for Prompto's hand, and after a second of fearful silence, Prompto took it. 

Regis stopped chewing on Gladio's hair long enough to see that cuddling was happening without him, and rolled and flopped his way between Noct and Prompto, huffing happily, as the scattered pieces of pack Caelum slowly started to fit together again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How do you all feel about cute kid and wolf antics and the comfort portion of this hurt/comfort extravaganza? Because that's definitely going to happen.


	17. Chapter 17

Life after Ardyn would never be perfect, but it was enough.

It was enough when Noctis saw Ignis, nearly shaking with boredom as report after report came in from the Citadel that he'd never be able to annotate, slice his thumb with a kitchen knife and slam his uninjured hand on the counter with a rage he never let the others witness. Noct took Ignis into the living room a few hours later, where he sat with the reports spread out on the table, highlighters and pens in a neat row just how Ignis liked them, and a mug of Ignis' favorite coffee.

"I thought we'd go through them together," he said. Ignis smiled, that subtle twist of the lips that was nevertheless dazzling for its presence, and as Noctis uncapped his pen and picked up the first report, that was enough.

It was enough when Gladio, desperate to let things go back to the way they were, forcibly suppressed his scent for all of three days before his body broke under the strain. He lay in feverish misery on the living room couch for a week, whining so loudly and pathetically that even Noct had to roll his eyes. Two days in, while Regis romped and squeaked over a sleeping Noctis in the yard, Prompto braced himself and took down a book from the shelf. 

"Let's start a new one," he said, sitting on the edge of the couch, pressed up to Gladio's side. Gladio looked up at him with an anxious grimace, and Prompto smiled, running a hand across his brow. And that was enough.

It was enough when Prompto woke, night after night, to pick up Regis and check all the doors and windows, locking and dead-bolting and dragging chairs under door handles. So Noct ignored the doctors' insistence that Prompto needed solitude and suggested they all go out, where Prompto found their small town had significantly risen in population since the last time he'd walked the streets. With Regis passed out in his carrier on Prompto's chest, Prompto found vaguely familiar eyes trained his way, whispers following him as he opened the door to the Peacekeeper training hall. 

Monica was there, talking to two kids sitting against the wall, one of them holding a kitten in her lap. Both of them jumped when they saw Prompto, and the other Peacekeepers stood, warily keeping their distance.

"Prom." Coctura was in a wheelchair, Dino at her side. "It's good to have you back."

"You might've noticed we picked up a few stragglers," Monica said. Prompto stared at the people sitting with the Peacekeepers, and opened his mouth for words that wouldn't come. "Who knows where we found them."

Gladio, standing well back from the crowd, grinned, and the crowd came forward in a chaos of voices. Prompto tried to keep up, but eventually fell into a sort of dazed smile, reaching out to take hands and rub shoulders and say, _Yeah, I'm glad you're safe, too. Thank you, thank you._

A young omega teenager stood in the back, hovering behind the others. She was wearing the uniform of a new recruit, and her hair was cut shorter than it had been the night Prompto returned to Ardyn. She seemed unwilling to push through the crowd, but she did it anyways, finally ending up at Prompto's elbow.

"I didn't know you had a baby," she said. She lifted a hand to Regis, who took her fingers and held on tight. "I. Um. That night. When you attacked Ardyn."

The crowd around them went suddenly quiet. The omegas, betas, and children Prompto recognized from Ardyn's pack all turned to him as one, and Gladio made an inquisitive sound from where he stood in the corner.

"Sorry I couldn't do more," Prompto said. The girl shrugged.

"You took out his _leg._ I thought maybe you were wild, but you only started growling when he touched me, and I... No one's ever done that for me before."

"They should've," Prompto said. The girl pulled her finger out of Regis' grasp and adjusted the fit of her new uniform. Then she smiled, bright and brilliant and a little too wide, and for Prompto, just for that moment, it was enough.

\----------

They threw a belated welcoming party a little late, with the sort of fanfare reserved for kings and high priestesses. It quickly turned into a party for Regis, as most events tended to become, but Prompto welcomed not having to be the center of attention for a while. Clarus sent him a new stack of children's books, which Regis summarily opened, stared at for two seconds, and discarded for the well-loved "Find Bahamut!" instead. His namesake and Queen Sylva sent them all a year pass to Wiz's Chocobo Farm, which was more of a present to Prompto, all things considered. Everything after that--Gifts from aunts and uncles, and from well-wishers in the Citadel who wanted to curry favor with Noct--was ignored entirely for Regis' new favorite game: Attack Dad.

Attack Dad could happen at any time. It happened during breakfast, while Gladio was trying to catch an hour's sleep, late at night when Regis climbed out of his crib and went stumbling on uncertain paws to the edge of the bed, where Gladio's feet always stuck out like perfect targets. The rules were simple, and the ending was always the same.

And so Regis shifted in the middle of a pile of wrapping paper, becoming a scruffy, dark-furred wolf puppy in bright yellow chocobo pajamas, and leapt for Gladio. Gladio shifted as he rolled, and pretended to fall back in pain as Regis bounced, squeaked, and tumbled over him. Nothing, not even a royal celebration, could ever be as important as Attack Dad.

The official portrait of Regis was mailed to the Citadel to be added to the family collection, but the unofficial one sat above the mantlepiece, depicting a small, very fluffy Regis somersaulting through the air into Gladio's back while Gladio played dead, tongue lolling in an expression of true defeat.

\--------

It took another month for Prompto to lose Ardyn's mating mark. He and Gladio tried a few times with no luck: As soon as Gladio got anywhere near Prompto's neck, Prompto seized up, scrambling to push Gladio back. After the third failed attempt, Gladio had to hide behind the shed to pull himself together, which took so long that Ignis had to seek him out. They sat together for a while, talking softly, Ignis' hand on Gladio's back as they stared out over the horizon towards Niflheim.

In the end, it wasn't the quiet, tentative sessions that did it, with both Prompto and Gladio treating each other so gingerly that they couldn't help but let the specter of Ardyn drift between them. It happened when Prompto, sitting between Gladio's legs as they read together, slammed his book shut and turned to his packmate with a grim look.

"You know what?" Prompto said. "We're doing this wrong."

"This?" Gladio gestured to the book. "You mean... reading?"

Prompto huffed and grabbed Gladio's shoulders, pushing him down onto the cushions. "Sorry, big guy, not what I'm talking about. I mean," he said, grinning down at him as he straddled Gladio's waist, "we should be having _fun._ "

A few weeks later, Prompto was tracing over his renewed mark with Gladio while he and Noct cuddled in the living room, watching Ignis read to Regis while Gladio worked on a report to the Citadel. Clarus had sent a handful of books written in braille, and while Ignis was still figuring the new language out for himself, it was easy enough to read the story of a Baby Behemoth That Shouldn't. 

"No," Ignis said, in a passable snarl that made Regis giggle and clap. "You should _not_ eat the princess, cried the dragon. Which, Regis, is a perfectly valid argument. No one should go around eating members of a royal family, no matter how they may feel regarding the flaws of a monarchy."

"Mum," Regis said, and patted Ignis' cheek. "Muh. Muh muh muh mmmmm."

"No commentary from the peanut gallery, Ignis," Gladio said, without looking up. 

Ignis sighed and turned the page. "And the behemoth said, I'll eat who I want, because I'm big and bold and honestly, this is a terrible moral, why do we even own this book--"

"I want one," Noct said, speaking low in Prompto's ear. Prompto raised his eyebrows and wrapped his arms around Noct, pulling him close.

"A behemoth? Dude, way too high maintenance."

Noct tapped Prompto on the hip. "Not that, doofus. I mean I want one. A... a, you know."

Prompto gave him an incredulous look.

"Now, this is ridiculous," Ignis was saying, while Regis slowly fell asleep in his lap. "What self respecting editor approved this?"

"Fine," Noct said. He rolled over in Prompto's arms so he could look him in the eye. "A baby. I want another baby."

"Oh," Prompto said. 

"Oh," said Ignis, hand stilling on his book.

"Hnng?" said Gladio, striking a line across half an hour's worth of coded intel. 

Little Regis just sniffed, nuzzling into Ignis' chest. Noct's face turned a patchy shade of red, and he slowly sank down into Prompto's hold, hiding his eyes from view.

"Well," Gladio said, after a minute. "We can definitely give it a try."


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I just found out that Leo is canon now in rkcart's AU, so I rewrote part of the last chapter to change the timeline and fit him into the fic. As of this chapter, it's been a little over four months since Prompto was rescued.

Regis Lucis Caelum Jr was the luckiest boy in Eos.

He was still too young for language: Speech rolled clumsily on his tongue, shaped by a mind too open for words, but he knew that his parents needed it, so he tried anyway. 

The one his papa called _Mum,_ who got up early and always let Regis crawl on the counter, loved sound. He listened to it when he made bread, letting Regis shove his small hands in the dough and laugh at the mess he made. The sound came out of a box next to the honey Regis wasn't allowed to taste, and it was all wailing and bits of metal sawing together to make something beautiful. 

Mum liked touch, too. He was always placing a hand on Regis' head, or holding him on his hip, or running large hands over Regis' fingers when Regis made the sign for _eat._ Sometimes, he and Mama would stand side by side and hold hands, and Regis would whine until they picked him up between them and held him close.

Papa was big and broad and funny, and would stomp into the living room to shout, "Where's my baby behemoth?" which was the signal for Regis to go scrambling for cover, waiting for Papa to come marching by so he could jump out at his ankles. Then Papa would fall, a great glorious fall that made the whole house shake, but he always smiled so Regis knew he wasn't really hurt.

Daddy was quiet. Regis liked quiet, sometimes. In the bad days, when everything was strange and terrible and Mama wouldn't come out from the dark, Daddy was the one who got up when Regis started to cry and bundled him up, even when he was so tired he couldn't walk straight. He liked to put Regis in clothes Regis didn't really care for, all puffy and full of air, and hold him as Regis paddled furiously in the cold river. Afterwards, he'd lift Regis high and they'd sit on the dock to eat bits of apple. Sometimes, Daddy would even sing.

Mama was all laughter and snuggles and short, sudden silences that Regis couldn't understand. He had hair the color of the living room light and a laugh that Regis loved more than anything, and sometimes he'd wake Regis up at night just to cuddle him close and speak in his ear.

Some nights, Regis would close his eyes and see Mama there, lost in the dark, getting smaller and smaller and fainter and fainter until Regis was alone again. But all he had to do was open his eyes, and Mama would be there.

He really was lucky.

One day, Regis was sitting in the kitchen, slowly and methodically throwing sliced bananas on the floor for Mum to pick up, when Papa stomped in.

But he didn't say _Where's my baby behemoth?_ this time. Instead he said something new.

"I'll dig him up," he said, which probably meant something. "Then I'm gonna kill him again."

"Gladio?" Mum said, which was another word for Papa. "What--"

Regis took advantage of Mum's confusion to reach for the honey jar.

"Five months," Papa said. His scent was different, almost sour, and Regis wasn't sure he liked it. So Regis ignored that and kept working on the jar. "He ain't two months pregnant like we thought. He's five."

Mum placed a hand on the counter. "Five? But he was with Ardyn then. He couldn't have. He isn't. Surely we would have noticed."

"He wasn't really in the best shape, Specs. And Ardyn didn't _share_ during Prom's heat," Papa said. Regis knew those words, too. Prom was Mama. Share was something Daddy did when he put veggies on Regis' plate. Ardyn was another word for being afraid.

Regis quietly shoved his fingers in the open honey jar, and decided that other than his parents, honey was his new favorite thing. He immediately smeared a handful on his face.

Yes. Perfect.

"Is he keeping it?" Mum asked.

"Gods, don't suggest giving it up. He nearly bit my face off, Iggy. You know how he is with... with the pups he never had. Even if it's Ardyn's..."

"Gods above."

Mum was sad, for some reason. Regis could smell it, even through the honey he was threading in his hair, and he knew what  
Mama and Daddy always did when _he_ was sad. So he scooted along the counter and patted Mum with one gooey hand, leaving a streak of honey behind.

Mum turned around, and Papa made a weird coughing noise.

"Muh!" Regis said, which was as close to a real word as he could get. Then Mum touched his hair, Papa coughed again, and Regis grabbed a handful of honey and plopped it on Mum's shirt, because if it made _Regis_ happy, it had to make everyone else happy, too.

He didn't know why trying to cheer Mum up would make him have to take a _bath,_ though. Mama took care of that one, laughing softly as he scrubbed shampoo in Regis' hair.

"How would you feel about being a big brother, little dude?" Mama said. Dude was another name for Regis. So was Baby and Buddy and Honey and Poop Monster, though Daddy always got in trouble for calling him that one.

The rest of it made no sense, so Regis just splashed water out of the tub, and Mama kissed him on the head.

"Well," Mama said. "Maybe I didn't want this. Maybe none of us want this. But I'll love him anyways."

Regis twisted in Mama's hands and raised soapy arms in the air. Mama hugged him, and Regis sighed, closing his eyes against his soft red vest. Regis didn't know a lot of the words his parents used. He didn't really need to. But he always, always knew what love was, and Regis Lucis Caelum Jr. loved harder and fiercer than any other person in the world.

\---------

Leo was born in the early morning, when the sun stretched long golden tendrils over the river, making the fish that struggled upstream shimmer in the light. He was born crying, with deep, hitching sobs that made his older brother, sitting as a wolf on Noctis' lap in the other room, sit up and whimper, ears flat against his skull.

When the midwife held the infant out to Prompto, a flicker of fear crossed Prompto's face.

"I'll hold him," Gladio said. He took the child, examining the damp red hair, the small, puffy cheeks, the sharp fingernails that caught on soft skin.

"He's got Prom's eyes," he said. 

Ignis let out a sigh. 

"And look, Prom," Gladio said. Leo curled up in his hands, hunching towards Gladio's chest as his sobs turned to faint whimpers. "He already knows me. Might as well be an Amicitia, huh?"

Prompto watched the boy wriggle in his swaddling blanket. 

"Yeah," Gladio said. "I bet he'd make a good one. What do you think, Prom? Leo Amicitia-Caelum? You see this face with our family portraits? He'll fit right in with Uncle Jer, he had hair so red they called him Ifrit the Infernian--"

"Gods, Gladio," Prompto said, with a weak laugh. "Stop making up shit about your family and let me hold him."

Noct brought Regis in a little later, when Prompto was drifting in and out and Leo was trying nurse and sleep at the same time. Regis stared in shock at the small creature latched to Prompto, and shifted to his human form just in time for Noct to lean in close.

"Uh?" Regis said, touching Leo gently on the cheek. The baby squinted up at him, and Regis smiled and waved.

Leo instantly burst into tears.

"Oh, dear," Ignis said, taking a confused, sobbing Regis in his arms while Prompto tried to soothe Leo. "He's rather sensitive, isn't he?"

"Ain't nothing wrong with being sensitive," Gladio said. 

"Maybe he _should_ be an Amicitia," Noct said. He brushed back Leo's hair. "Gladio used to cry over everything."

"Slander," Gladio said, and kissed Prompto on the cheek. "Don't listen to him, sunshine."

"Too late," Prompto said, and lay back on his pillows, hands slipping off Leo's back. "You've been exposed. Gladi... Gladiolus Amicitia. War hero. Alpha. Giant softie."

Gladio smiled and brushed a thumb over Prompto's cheek. "I'll take it," he said. "There are worse things to be."

\----------

If the members of pack Caelum worried that Regis wouldn't take to playing second fiddle to a young baby with questionable parentage, they underestimated Regis' latent ability to befriend anything that could be deemed remotely sentient. Regis was a boy who spent an hour trying to get a butterfly to land on his hand and went stumbling after any kid he saw in the market, and treated Leo like a new and particularly fragile stuffed animal. As soon as Leo could hold his head up without help, Regis would grab book after book from the children's library on the bottom shelf, holding them open and babbling in an authoritative tone.

"Bahmoth," he said, pointing at the baby behemoth on the page while Leo chewed on the corner of the book. He flipped the page. "Wooooooooah!"

"Ohhhh," Leo repeated, softly. Regis grinned, threw back his head, and let out a passable howl.

At which point Leo, aghast at the sudden noise, let out a sob. Regis grabbed him in a tight hug, startling him out of his tears before they came. Leo was always quick to cry, and Regis had taken his role as the eldest to heart, scrambling over whenever he heard so much as a hiccup.

There weren't nearly as many gifts from the nobility for Leo as there had been for Regis. The timing of the pregnancy, along with persistent rumors of Prompto being the omega who started the war, led to whispers of a bastard being adopted into the royal pack. There was a brief, belated shower from the Peacekeepers, though, who passed Leo between them and laughed in sympathy when he started to wail for Prompto.

It was the teen omega who'd just joined the Peacekeepers who suggested the curse-breaking.

"It's something we did for our babies, back at the compound," she said. She lifted Leo in her arms and jiggled him on her hip. "I'll need two more for the circle."

Monica's new kids ran up and stood on either side of Leo. Prompto hovered anxiously as they whispered in the northern dialect of Niflheim, one after another, in an odd little chant. When it was done, the teen kissed Leo on both cheeks and handed him back to Prompto.

"There," she said, as Leo snuggled close to Prompto's chest. "Now no bad spirits will stick to him."

She didn't have to name the spirit in question. Leo reached for her, and she somberly took his hand.

"Pretty sure this makes you an honorary aunt, now," Prompto said. The girl smiled.

"Auntie Stella," she said, trying out the name. "Yeah. Has a nice ring to it."

Out of the more corporeal gifts Leo received was a stuffed moogle from Iris, which became his constant, beloved companion. On the days it had to be washed, Leo would sob on Ignis' hip, staring down into the soapy water as though it were drowning. King Regis and the rest of the royal family sent him formal clothes, which made him look like a small, red-haired Ignis in fake suspenders and soft cotton blazers. Cor Leonis, his namesake, visited in person so he could hold him inexpertly and present him with an empty toy box.

"Prince Noctis used to throw all his toys out and play in the box when he was a kid," Cor said, as Leo and Regis tumbled around inside. "Thought I'd cut out the middle-man."

Clarus sent his present with Cor: A framed picture of little Regis' hand and paw prints at Leo's age, and a blank one for Leo. Leo objected to the mess, whining at the way the ink stuck to his hands, but Gladio said he'd appreciate it one day.

"There," Gladio said, when Leo was rolling in the kitchen sink, protesting the quick bath Ignis was giving him with subdued whimpers. Gladio set the framed pictures up on the living room wall. "It's official, now."

Prompto glanced at the dark red hair sticking up in Ignis' fingers, but said nothing.

Leo learned to shift late, taking after Prompto's preference for staying in his human form. Noct was the best teacher in the end, making it a game that usually ended with Leo trying to stumble and roll into the garden, tail waving like a banner, red-gold fur blending with the pumpkins and squashes.

After his first real successful shift, Regis was trying to convince a dubious Leo to participate in a game of Attack Dad when Noct burst in the room.

"Hey, guys," he said. "You know what we could use more of?"

"Diapers?" Prompto asked, gently nudging Leo back towards Gladio with a foot.

"Silence," Ignis said, from where he was mending one of Noct's shirts by touch. Noct rolled his eyes.

"Yes and no," he said. "But you're both wrong. What we need," he said, and slammed a small plastic stick on the coffee table. "Is--"

Leo stared at Noct in wide-eyed shock, alarmed by the noise, then started to whine. Regis bounded over, licked his ears, and howled faintly. Leo tried to howl as well, warbling and weak, and the two pups broke into ear-splitting howls and yips, drowning out whatever Noctis meant to say.

"What?" Prompto shouted. Leo turned his scandalized gaze to him and howled louder. 

"For pity's sake," Ignis said, grabbing Regis. Gladio picked up Leo, who sneezed, shifted, and started to sob. 

"Uh," Noct said, surveying the chaos. "I, uh. Look, I had a whole dramatic speech, it was really--"

Prompto leaned over and picked up the plastic. "Oh," he said. "Oh! You meant a baby! We're having another baby!"

"Probably not that exciting," Noct said, as Gladio's face froze in a mix of delight and awe. "But I thought--"

He winced as Prompto grabbed him in a hug, slowly tipping him back onto the carpet. Prompto nuzzled him, checking the change in his scent, and kissed him soundly.

"This is the best news _ever,_ " he said, and kissed him again. "Trust me, Noct. You're gonna _love_ it."


	19. Chapter 19

"Tell me again," Noct said, holding onto their newly cleaned toilet with both hands, "how much I was supposed to love this."

The main bathroom of the Caelum pack home had been redecorated to match Regis and Leo's tastes in cartoon chocobos, which meant that when Noctis Lucis Caelum had to kneel on the tile and heave out what remained of his lunch, he did so with his knees on a Kenny Crow rug and his back to a poster of "Charlie the Chocobo," a newspaper cartoon that Regis Jr loved with something close to obsession. Prompto wiped his forehead with a chocobo-patterned washcloth, and Noct groaned.

"It's not that bad," Prompto said, petting Noct's hair. "The morning sickness tends to go away after--"

"It's _five in the afternoon, Prom,_ " Noct wailed. He coughed, and Prompto rubbed his back. "And I have to pee all the time, and I can't sleep anymore, and I swear, this baby is a fucking giant."

"Someone had to get Gladio's genes," Prompto said, and Noct cast him a look of long-suffering despair. "Sorry, buddy."

Noct sat back, and lay down on the polished tile floor. "I'm turned on all the time, but then Gladio and I'll be, you know, and then I'll get sucker-punched in the spine and I think, Oh god, what if the baby knows? What if I'm traumatizing her?"

"Her brain isn't totally developed yet," Prompto said. "You're fine."

"I swear she does it out of revenge."

Prompto scooted closer, lightly trailing his hands over Noct's swollen belly, and kissed his mate on the neck, crooning.

"Prom," Noct said. "I appreciate it, but I--"

There was a distant bark of laughter, and soft huffing sounds from the hall. Prompto and Noct turned to find Regis, fully shifted and waddling backwards, a rumpled wad of Leo's fancy new formal onesie in his mouth. Leo giggled and cooed as his older brother dragged him down the hall, and they both stopped to look at Prompto and Noctis.

"Ah," Leo said, in a quiet tone, and reached out a hand for Prompto. Prompto waved.

Slowly, watching Noct the whole time, Regis dragged Leo out of view. Then Gladio let out a choking sound from the living room, and heavy footsteps shook the tile.

"No, Regis," he said, "We don't hide Leo in the closet."

Regis barked. Noct spat into the toilet and lay down on his side, pressing his cheek to the cool tile.

"I'm never doing this again," he said, and Prompto laughed, rubbing his shoulders in sympathy.

\----------

Despite Prompto's assurances that it would get better eventually, Noctis spent the next few months in a perpetual state of whine. The others fussed over him at first, fetching him drinks and coaxing him out of bed so they could launder the sheets, but when Noct draped himself over Gladio one morning, sighed like the world had ended, and flopped about demanding head-scratches, even Ignis had to throw up his hands in defeat.

"He looks like he has twins," Prompto said one night, when he and Ignis had left Leo and Regis to Gladio so they could lock the bedroom door for a minute. 

"He certainly acts that way," drawled Ignis. Ignis always became slow and soft like this, with Prompto splayed out below him, gasping appreciatively at the path of Ignis' fingers over his skin. He was quicker to smile, to laugh, pressing light kisses to Prompto's neck and grazing teeth over his ear. Before, Ignis had said he liked to see Prompto's face when they made love. Now, Prompto grabbed Ignis' hand and brought it to his lips, letting him feel Prompto's smile.

With Ignis, sex was an afterthought. The real appeal came with the slow touches, the easy smiles, the soothing warmth of a hand rubbing Prompto's thigh as they moved together. Prompto kissed Ignis' scarred left eye, and ran fingers through his disheveled hair.

"Wish you could mark me," Prompto whispered.

Ignis pressed an open-mouthed kiss to Prompto's scent gland, and Prompto gasped at the heat of his tongue. Prompto's fingers curled in Ignis' hair, and he purred, soft and deep and content--

They both jerked when the door rattled. 

"Mamamamamama ma!" cried Regis, from the hall.

"Aoooh," whispered Leo.

Prompto sighed.

"Sorry, guys," Noct said. "Regis wants to show you what he did to Gladio."

"What'd he do?" Prompto asked, hastily buttoning up Ignis' shirt while Ignis pulled up Prompto's pants.

"Killed him," Noct said. "He won't let Gladio get up unless you see."

Prompto took a moment to compose himself before he opened the door wide. Leo tipped over backwards in shock, his red fluffy tail whipping the floor, and Regis beamed.

"Who killed Papa?" Prompto asked, scooping Regis up in his arms, Regis squealed, and Leo rolled onto Prompto's foot, whining. Prompto picked him up as well, and Leo snuggled close, nuzzling into his arm.

Noct, sucking at an empty packet of hot sauce he'd stolen from who knows where, slipped past Prompto and sank into bed.

"Everything hurts," Prompto heard him whimper to Ignis, as Prompto carried the boys into the hallway where Gladio lay belly-up with his paws in the air.

"Oh, no," Prompto whispered, as Ignis' murmurs of comfort trailed down the hall. "Papa needs to be brought back to life!"

Leo whined, plaintive and unsure. Regis squirmed and covered his eyes as Prompto leaned in, kissing Gladio on the forehead with a grin. Gladio opened his eyes and panted in a wolf's smile, then rolled onto his side, giving Prompto room to sit down. Regis shrieked and wriggled out of Prompto's hold, hugging Gladio's ruff with both hands. Leo whined again, and Prompto set him down, where he waddled and stumbled up to Gladio's side and curled up, keening softly.

"I don't know who's needier right now," Prompto said. "Leo or Noct."

" _Prommmm,_ " Noct cried, voice warbling in the hall. "I left the box of cookies on the _table._ "

Prompto groaned and plopped down next to Gladio, ignoring Noct's high whine from the bedroom. Regis turned to hug Prompto instead, and Leo took Regis' place, disappearing in the ruff of fur at Gladio's neck.

Noctis whined again. "Da!" Regis cried, shoving a hand in Prompto's face. "Give Da!"

"Give Daddy what, little dude?" Prompto asked, and Regis hugged him, squeezing Prompto's cheeks together.

"Oh my gods," Prompto breathed, and hugged him back, making Regis giggle and squeak.

Clara Lucis Caelum arrived at four in the morning, proving that while she was the first true princess of her generation in the Lucian line, she was also definitely an Amicitia. She screamed like a banshee when she was removed from the water in the pack's massive tub, and kept screaming long after she finally worked out how to use Noctis for his primary purpose. Every now and then, she'd unlatch from a nipple, look around the room, scream, and go back to nursing.

"I think she's pissed," Noct said, drying off on a metric ton of towels in the pack bed. Regis, almost two years old and unable to be denied, stood with a hand on Noct's shoulder and tried to pet Clara's back.

"Claw," he said, and tried to make a comforting purr, which came out more like garbled growling than anything. Clara screamed at him and curled up in Noct's arms. Regis looked down at Clara in shock--he'd always been able to comfort _Leo,_ before--and tears sprang to his eyes.

"Aw, it's ok, Reg," Noct said. "She's just got a lot of Gladio in her."

"Excuse me, brat," Gladio said. "The whiny princess act is on you." But his grin proved the lie to his words, and he kissed Noct on the temple, gently cupping the back of his head. Leo, half asleep in Ignis' lap at the foot of the bed, crawled over to his brother and tugged at his clothes.

"Gigi," he said, his nickname for Regis. Regis looked down, tearful and lost, and wrapped Leo in a tight embrace. Prompto snapped a picture, and Clara screamed again, furious at the indignity of photographs, of older brothers, of open air and breathing and the world in general.

"Yeah," Prompto said with fondness, watching her shake tiny fists in the air. "That's all Noctis."


	20. Chapter 20

"Good morning, sir!" 

Talcott Hester stood at the door to Noctis Caelum's home, framed by rows of laden sunflowers that lined the front walk. He proudly bore a cactuar-themed backpack, a briefcase covered in stickers, and an enamel cactuar pin on his pressed cotton shirt. When he saw Prompto stepping out from behind Gladio, Talcott dropped his bags with a crash and waved both hands.

"Mr. Prompto, sir!" Talcott cried, and stepped over his fallen bags to grab Prompto around the middle. 

"Good to see you, buddy," Prompto said, and Talcott beamed. Leo peered out from behind Prompto's legs, and Talcott ducked down to stare at him.

"Hey, you must be Leo," Talcott said. "I'm your babysitter while your dads do boring grown-up stuff."

Leo blinked at him owlishly, then shuffled back behind Prompto's legs.

"He'll warm up to you," Gladio said. He had Talcott's bags over one shoulder and little Clara on the other. "Come on, kid, lemme show you your room."

"Bye, Leo!" Talcott said.

Leo clutched Prompto's pants as Talcott skipped off after Gladio. "Bye-bye," he whispered.

Where Regis seemed to take his time, using sign language, whining, and barking to get his points across for a while, Leo tackled speech with a single-minded determination. He loved to hear Ignis speak in particular, and would sit in his arms and run his hands over Ignis' face, tracing the shape of the words. But as soon as he was faced with a stranger, Leo clammed up with a fearful silence. He clung to Regis as Talcott, holding Clara in her new cactuar onesie, waved Prompto and the others out the door.

"Are you sure they'll be okay?" Prompto asked, fingers slipping from Ignis' hold. Ignis tightened his grip. 

"They'll have protection nearby, just in case," Ignis said. "And we truly can't let this go."

"Sorry, guys," Noct said. As prince and overseer of his territory for the crown, it was Noct's job to handle any complaints, disputes, or questions that couldn't be solved by the local government. For a while, Noct had done so by mail, but he needed to show up in person at least once to prove that he wasn't throwing his work on the local council. And so Noct was dressed to the nines in the middle of summer, his cloak of office immaculately pressed, pointed shoes gathering dust on the street. The others were similarly dressed, though Prompto had discreetly cut the sleeves off his own uniform. 

The town hall, when they reached it, was full to bursting. Ignis hung back in the doorway, scenting the air, one hand slipping on the frame as Noct, stepped out to a susurrus of whispers. Most of the people in the room, from what Prompto could see, were omegas. There were a number of alphas in the back, a crowd of betas wearing handmade, matching shirts, and quite a few groups carrying banners and signs. He glanced at Gladio, who looked just as overwhelmed as Ignis, and ducked under Ignis' arm.

The crowd fell silent.

The last time Prompto held this much attention from a crowd at once, he'd been in Ardyn's entrance hall, with the copper tang of blood in his mouth. He inched back from the crowd, and Gladio appeared at his side, warm and comforting, a wall against the stares that seemed to pierce right through him.

"Uh." Noct took a seat at the desk provided for him at the front of the room. Ignis sat next to him, and took Noct's hand under the table.

"So," Noct said. "Who's first?"

-

Halfway through the meeting, Gladio slipped an arm around Prompto's waist and jerked his head towards the side door. Most of the complaints were about delays to road construction and the failing mines, but there were a few cases that had set Prompto's nerves on edge. There were the betas who'd found themselves without protection after the brothel they'd been forced to work for was shut down. There were families from behind the border asking for approval to sever pack bonds with their Lucian mates, omegas wearing thick collars talking about the rise in nonconsensual claiming, and a tight-lipped woman from Galahd, who stepped forward and placed both her hands on the desk, leaning so that Noct had to scoot back in his chair.

"My name's Crowe," she said, her dark hair falling loose from her messy bun, "and I come with a plea on behalf of the alphas of Galahd."

Noct handled it all with as much grace as possible, though there were a few times when he had to frantically whisper to Ignis and give a carefully crafted non-answer. Prompto couldn't see how any of it could be solved in an afternoon, and hadn't even realized he was getting stressed out for Noct's sake until Gladio pulled him aside.

"We're takin' a break," Gladio said, towing Prompto to the door. A number of people in the crowd watched them go, gazes fixed on Prompto, and Prompto was suddenly grateful that Gladio towered at least a foot over him, blocking them out. When the door closed, Prompto leaned into Gladio's chest and sighed.

"And this is what's in the letters he gets all the time?" he asked. "How does Noct keep it together?"

"He cares," Gladio said. He draped his arms over Prompto's chest. "Too much, sometimes. He keeps it up because he knows no one else is gonna listen. Not to them. They don't have representatives in the Council--who's gonna say they're advocating for a prostitute when they're up for reelection?"

"Noct would," Prompto pointed out. 

"Yeah, well. That's Noct. And it helps that he can't really lose his job without some kinda revolution." Gladio propped his chin up on Prompto's head, and Prompto smirked. "He'd make a good king, you know. Just don't tell him I said that."

"I thought Ravus was the crown prince," Prompto said. The thought of Noct being king, of the four of them packing up and leaving their little home behind for the Citadel, was not a pleasant one.

"Of Tenebrae," Gladio said. "Laws of inheritance in noble packs are fucking weird, Prom."

Prompto chuckled. "Wonder what I'd inherit if I stayed in Besithia."

"They tend to marry their omegas off," Gladio said. He hugged Prompto close. "Don't go sayin' I'm sentimental, but I like you where you are."

"Aw, you _romantic._ "

"Don't you start."

They bought cake at a nearby cafe, with two to-go boxes for Ignis and Noctis, and sat on the steps behind the meeting hall to finish it off. Prompto sat on the step above Gladio, boxing him in with his legs, and idly fed him bits of iced roses from his own plate. A welcome cloud had passed over the sun, and bees hovered over the wildflowers by the path, clustering at a trellis of honeysuckle next to the ditch.

When Noct and Ignis finally emerged from the back door, Noctis collapsed at Gladio's side and lay his head in his lap.

"Kill me," he moaned. Gladio patted him on the face. Ignis took out his cane and rapped on Noct's legs, which were in the way of the stairs. Noct moaned again and curled up, giving Ignis room to pass.

"Dunno what we're gonna do about the Galahd situation," he said. He sat up when Ignis reached out, and leaned his head into Ignis' hand, letting him pet his hair. "I'll have to ask Dad to look over the treaty."

"Most likely," Ignis said, "but for now, we are done with business, and I for one would like to know what smells like store-bought icing."

"Sorry, Iggy," Prompto said.

"Is my own baking so abhorrent?" Ignis asked, picking out a piece of the cake offered to him despite the disappointment in his tone. He took a bite and frowned. "Too much sugar."

Noct rolled his eyes, and Ignis nudged him with a foot. "How'd you even--"

"I know you, love," Ignis said. "Come. Clara is likely screaming the house down without you."

Clara was not, in fact, screaming when the four of them came home. She was bouncing up and down in Talcott's arms, clapping her hands and screeching with laughter as Talcott shifted just enough to turn his face into a grotesque mask. Leo had his own face covered with both hands, and Regis stared in open admiration, trying to shift partway himself. He'd only managed to shift his ears and tail, which slapped the wood floor excitedly as Talcott tried a new expression.

"Good gods," Gladio said. "Clara's laughing."

Clara turned at the sound of his voice, and caught sight of Noctis at Gladio's elbow. She hiccuped, suddenly remembering that she was hungry, and opened her mouth to scream.

"Aw, don't do that," Talcott said. "Is that the Cactuar Squad way to be?"

Clara stared at Talcott, mouth still open. Noctis took advantage of her confusion and swept her up in his arms, bearing her off towards the nursery. Regis got up and raised his hands to Ignis, and frowned when Ignis didn't respond. "Up," he demanded. "Mum, up."

"My apologies, dear," Ignis said, and held out his hands. Regis ran into them, and Ignis picked him up to balance him on his hip. 

Leo, the last one left, looked from Gladio to Prompto and whimpered.

"Leo cried," Reg said, helpfully. That was obvious enough by the red face and damp cheeks, and Prompto lifted him in the air, kissing his forehead in little pecks until Leo let out a half-hearted giggle. Ignis smiled in Prompto's direction, and Prompto grinned.

"Gods, I love you," Ignis said.

"Gross," Talcott whispered. He flushed when Gladio and Prompto gave him a curious look, and rubbed the back of his neck. "Sorry, sir."

With Talcott staying over as a resident babysitter for the week, Noctis helped Ignis prepare dinner. They stood side-by-side, shoulders bumping as Noct cut vegetables he'd never eat, Ignis reaching over now and then to tweak his ear or rub his back. Talcott scowled at what likely seemed to him to be a horrendous display of affection, and went outside to blow bubbles with Regis and Leo. 

A few minutes later, just as Ignis was about to start heating up the oil, Talcott raced in. 

"There's someone out there," he said. Regis was under one arm in wolf form, Leo under the other as a human, and Talcott was shivering with anxiety. Gladio clapped him on the shoulder and pointed to Prompto, who was holding Clara, and opened the door.

A warm breeze ran through the kitchen, bringing with it the scent of pomegranate and sage. Prompto tightened his hold on Clara.

"A beta," Gladio said. "Smells like a Nif. Noctis, you and Prom go to the--"

Prompto walked forward, and placed Clara in Gladio's arms. Gladio fell back a step, and Prompto passed him, heading for the open door.

"Prom?" 

Prompto didn't bother putting his outdoor boots on. He trudged through the dry grass, walking faster with each step, until he was running, until he was shifting mid-way, paws digging up clumps of dirt and grass seed. He could hear steps behind him, the whine of Noct at his most distressed, but all he could think of was that scent, the one he'd gone to since he was eight years old and terrified, the one he--

Prompto collided with Aranea Highwind with a thud that made the very earth tremble, and rolled, tongue lolling, teeth bared in a helpless grin. Aranea shook out her grey fur and looked down at him as Prompto shifted back, his blond hair littered with dirt and grass, his eyes bright, smile wide. 

"Hey," he said, and Aranea shifted to human just as Noct reached them, her long silver hair running loose down her shoulders. 

"Hey," she said, shrugging into a black over robe. Prompto sat up, drawing her into a hug that made her wheeze out the next words in a breathless gasp. "Lookin' good, kid."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyyyyy this chapter kicked my ass. But it's done! And now we can get back to regularly scheduled posting!


	21. Chapter 21

What followed, in Gladiolus Amicitia-Caelum’s opinion, was the strangest afternoon of his gods-cursed life.

In a world that made sense, he would have known what to do when he found one of his mates lying belly-up under a strange beta, reeking of Niflheim, flanked by men with the battle-hardened look of old fighters. He would have known what to do when that beta wrapped an arm around Prompto’s neck, drawing his head in to her chest, grinning wide when he raised his hands in surrender. But before Gladio could so much as feel the beginnings of a growl rise in his throat, Prompto was springing away from the woman with a bright, wide-eyed enthusiasm Gladio had never seen before. 

“Oh my gods, Ara,” he said. “You gotta meet my _babies!_ ”

“Your what.” Ara looked from Prompto to Gladio, Ignis, and Noctis, who were approaching in a loose half circle around her and her… pack? Gladio narrowed his eyes. One of them was an alpha, that he was sure of, but they both deferred to her, drawing close only when Prompto raced from her side.

Prompto hesitated, hopping from one foot to the other. “Oh, right,” he said. “Noct, Iggy, Gladio, meet Aranea. Aranea, this is my pack. Hold on a second, okay?”

Aranea. Gladio knew _that_ name. Prompto went trotting off for the house, and Gladio crossed his arms, shifting his weight to one side. “You used to be in Ardyn’s pack,” he said. 

Aranea shrugged. “And you’re the guy who ripped his throat out.” She smiled, but it wasn’t an altogether comforting grin: Too sharp, too brittle, with a bitter edge that Gladio could only barely understand. “You know Prom’s the reason that asshole went down so easy, right? Took out his leg the first night…” She rolled her shoulders, but Gladio caught the hint of a shudder beneath the gesture. “The first night back.”

“We were told,” Ignis said. Aranea’s lips thinned.

“Good,” she said. “That boy’s a fucking treasure.”

“Okay!” The tension snapped like a wire as Prompto hopped between Gladio and Noctis, carrying Leo and Regis in both arms. Noct made a strangled sound of distress, but Prompto would have been wagging his tail if he had one, beaming ear to ear as he stopped in front of a startled Aranea. He thrust Regis towards her, heaved over one hip.

“This is Regis,” he said. “I made him. I mean. He’s mine. I mean, Regis, say hi to Auntie Aranea.”

Aranea’s eyes widened. “Auntie… wh—“ Regis stretched out his hands, demanding a hug, and Aranea looked back to Biggs and Wedge, panic wafting from her in waves. Prompto pushed Regis into her arms, and she held him awkwardly, wincing when Regis grabbed a fistful of her hair.

“Oh, yeah, he does that,” Prompto said. “And this is Leo. Leo, say hi.”

Aranea took one look at Leo’s thick red hair, and her expression hardened. “Prom,” she said.

“Neea!” Regis cried, and patted her cheeks with both hands. 

“Prom,” Aranea tried again. “Is he—“

“Nee!” Regis cried again, clearly amused by what he thought was a hilarious joke. 

“Hi,” Leo whispered. 

Aranea sighed. “Hey, kid,” she said, accepting defeat. And then, to everyone’s surprise, Leo held out both hands to her. “Wait. Hold on. I don’t know if I can—“ Aranea grunted as Leo was foisted into her other arm, and she was left standing in the middle of the Caelum territory backyard, two toddlers in her arms, a faint whine building in the back of her throat. 

“This is the best day of my life,” Prompto said, a little tearfully. “You wanna stay for dinner?”

Aranea stayed for dinner. _And_ for coffee. _And,_ it seemed, for the rest of the evening. She was an instant hit with Clara, who only needed a moment with her to confirm that here, at last, was someone with the sarcastic indifference to get across what a good ten minutes of screaming could not. Clara rolled and flopped her way into Aranea’s lap, pleased to have found someone who could live up to her exacting standards, and Leo, while spending most of his time hiding behind Talcott or Gladio as a last bastion of defense, mustered up the courage to wave. Regis showed Aranea his toys, and when those ran low, started carrying in Leo’s as well. Leo promptly had a minor meltdown, and Gladio had to walk around the nursery with him, rubbing a comforting hand over his back while he hiccupped into Gladio’s shoulder. 

“We’re heading for the cape,” Aranea said, when the kids were in bed, being sung to by Ignis in the other room. She was sprawled against Biggs’—or Wedge’s, no one could really remember yet—chest with an arm on her other packmate’s shoulder. Neither seemed to object to being used as impromptu furniture, and only grinned at each other when Aranea adjusted them accordingly. “We’re thinking of setting up shop there, maybe taking on some jobs with the local Hunters.”

Prompto deflated a little, and Gladio was amused to find that Aranea jerked up as though startled awake. “Doesn’t mean you can’t visit, though,” she said. “I mean, if your pack’ll let you.”

“Prom can do whatever he wants,” Noct said, bristling at the implication. Aranea just blinked. 

“I know,” she said. “He’d better.”

“Guys.” Prompto nudged Aranea with a foot. “Dial it down, like, eighty percent. Things are great here, Ara. Promise. And we’ll _totally_ visit. I’ve never seen the ocean before.”

“You’ll love it,” Biggs—or Wedge—said. “Aranea’s got us set up in this lighthouse shack, so we’re right by what’s probably the best fishing in Eos—“

“Gods, not again,” muttered Wedge—or Biggs. Noct perked up.

“Fishing?” he said, while Prompto and Gladio groaned in chorus. “Fishing how?”

 

\---

Aranea stayed for three chaotic, magnificent days, during which she learned how to hold Regis without looking like she was about to panic, taught Leo two new curse words that had Ignis grumbling under his breath, and sent Talcott into a tizzy of excitement over the rumors of actual, real-life cactuars roaming the grasses between Niflheim and Lucis. Prompto moped for a good hour after she left, wrapped up in Ignis’ arms while Noct and Gladio wrangled the kids. He could hear them down the hall, the soft giggles and screeches that came with the time-honored game of Attack Dad, followed by Gladio’s dramatic, anguished attempts at a death howl. 

“Daddy, no,” he heard Leo cry, and Noct’s laughter rang through the house.

“Never thought it’d end like this,” Prompto mumbled, lips pressed to Ignis’ collarbone. Ignis’ room was as much Prompto’s now, with his favorite blankets draped over the foot of the bed, his clothes in the dresser, photos of him with the others propped up on the table for his benefit. He luxuriated in the silence, and the warmth of Ignis’ arms. As Ignis’ hands traveled up his sides, he recalled the first time Ignis had touched him, so many years before. Light, tentative, like Prompto could run at any moment, but ultimately gentle. Had he loved him even then, with Prompto terrified and half-wild, the shadow pain of a muzzle still tugging at his mouth?

 _“You have a beautiful coat,”_ he’d said that first day, staring at a scrawny, mud-covered wolf cowering by the garden shed. _“Like gold.”_

He thought of Noctis, looking back at him from over his shoulder while Prompto tried to drag him out of bed. Gladio sitting with him at the dock, a warm presence at his side, demanding nothing. The books that cracked along the spines with use, and the photos that lay in ever-growing albums on the living room shelf.

“What’s that?” Ignis asked, in a slow drawl. Prompto smiled into his skin and carded a hand through Ignis’ hair. He paused at his temple, brushing a thumb over the scar on his eye, and kissed Ignis there. Ignis chuckled and wrapped his arms firmly around Prompto’s waist. 

“Just thinking back,” Prompto said.

“Good memories, I hope,” Ignis said. Prompto blinked away tears, tasting the salt of them on his tongue, and buried his face in Ignis’ neck. 

“The best.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your kudos, comments, and support through this wild ride of a fic! And thanks most of all to rkcart for letting me dabble in your AU! It's been a wonderful adventure.


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